The Hustler Hustled
by Mad Steph
Summary: Prompted by Skysamuelle on LJ. A Post season 5 reset fic, a Sawyer/Juliet story
1. Welcome to LA

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing shortly in Los Angeles. Please remain seated and keep your seat belt fastened until the air craft has come to a complete stop. We hope you had a pleasant flight, and look forward to see you travel with us again on Oceanic Airlines," the stewardess' voice cracked in the microphone throughout the cabin.

"Pleasant flight, my ass," Sawyer muttered bitterly under his breath. Three hours after they had took off from Sydney, the plane had hit "unusually rough" (according to the captain) turbulences, so rough that all the passengers were rattled in their seats as if they had been aboard the Indiana Jones Roller coaster in Disneyland. The ride was so rocky that the nerdy computer geek like kid sitting next to him had threw up, narrowly missing the little paper bag he had urgently grabbed from the pouch in front of him, and instead sending a whole load of vomit splatter on the back of the seat, he was facing.

Sawyer had then spent the rest of the flight -the longest ten hours of his existence, bathing in the faint, unbearable, acid smell of puke.

At one point, he had rose from his seat to go to the John and try and sweet talk one of the stewardess into giving him some kind of liquor to make the remainder of the trip less excruciating. On his way he had tripped over some guy's foot, the guy in question was huge, and sprawled over two seats, his eyes were shut and the earphones of his CD player were plugged into his ears. The collision caused the guy's eyes to shoot open, and Sawyer graced him with one of his death glares and a, "Watch yer feet Dumbo." The guy had hastily tidied his feet and recoiled in his seat, all the while stuttering his apology.

He then spotted a cute blonde chick, so pregnant, she looked like she was about to burst any minute soon -that's all he and the vomit infested flight needed, some girl going into labour somewhere over the Pacific Ocean.

There was also an attractive brunette, with enticing green eyes, her lower half was covered with a blanket, he looked at her with mild interest, only to be met with the intense glare of the suit sitting next to her. Jeez, Sawyer thought, there's no harm in looking, it's not as if I was going to grab her and screw her in front of everyone, in the corridor, between 27G and 27F, some guys are so possessive around their girlfriends.

He didn't get his drink, no matter how much of his Southern charm he used, how many times he displayed his dimples, the stewardess -Cindy, had brushed him off and sent him back to his seat in the puke zone. When the plane's wheels finally bumped off the tarmac of LAX, he had never been so relieved to be back in the City of Angels.

The minute Sawyer set his foot out of the airport and breathed the polluted air of Los Angeles, he didn't waste any time and hailed a cab, there was someone he had to pay a little visit to, and it could not wait.

.

* * *

.

As soon as he had pushed the door of the run down looking bar open, he was immersed in a completely different world, even though it was only mid afternoon, and the sun was still blazing outside, inside the place was obscure, the only lighting was a couple of neons above the pool tables and a the lamp shedding light over the till behind the bar.

Even in the grimness of the place, Sawyer almost instantly spotted his man, he hadn't been difficult to track down, the guy was a rat, a creature of habit, he was sitting at a stool at the bar, sipping on what was presumably a Jack Daniels on the rocks.

He approached the man from behind.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," the man commented, not even bothering to turn around. "Did ya get the job done? How does it feel, to finally be free?"

Sawyer couldn't hold down the lid on his boiling rage for a minute longer, "Now you listen to me, you son of a bitch. I'm not a damn moron, or some idiot you can manipulate into doing your dirty work, that guy -Frank Duckett, wasn't the guy I'm after, and you knew that damn well went you told me to hunt him down in Australia."

"Still you shot him, didn't you?" the man remarked.

"Shut the hell up, Hibbs ..."

"Looks like I did con you," Hibbs chuckled sadistically. "Will ya look at that, the hustler hustled, how's that for giving a guy a taste of his own medicine."

Sawyer grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt and slammed him into the nearest wall. The bartender was about the intervene but Hibbs motioned him not to.

"Calm down, buddy," Hibbs said placidly. "I won't tell a soul, it'll be our little secret."

Sawyer loosened his grip slightly, "I don't want not'ing to do with ya anymore."

He turned around and began making his way out of the bar.

"Now, that's just a shame, isn't it?" Hibbs voice echoed in his mind, causing him to stop dead on his tracks, while the older man continued his speech. "I had a new job all set up for you."

"Ain't interested," Sawyer simply said, wanting nothing more than to get as far from Hibbs as he possibly could.

"It's easy money," Hibbs taunted. "I heard from Fat Phil that you had hit a bit of a rough patch lately."

Damn Phil and his fat mouth, Sawyer thought, damn Hibbs and his connections, the man knew the right people to get whatever information he needed to gain leverage against someone. The worst part was that he was right, he had been tight on cash as of late, he'd been living off of pot noodles and beer, and had had to sell his car, because he could no longer afford gas.

"What's her name?"

.

* * *

.

A couple of weeks later, Sawyer was lying in bed with his latest mark, Leslie Shaw, a bubbly curvy redhead married to Maximilian Shaw, the CEO of a major cosmetic company, who had apparently made his big break by coming up with an innovative way to market lip gloss -or something.

The past couple of weeks spent with Leslie had brought Sawyer to the conclusion that apart from her good looks -she was hotter than hot, her big breasts and having a husband with a platinum American Express card, the woman didn't have much going for her, that being said, most people would argue that in this world, that was pretty damn good.

In addition to being the King of lip gloss and the owner of a platinum American Express, Max Shaw spent most or all of his time travelling between his L.A. and his New York office, spending the nights he was far away from his wife in the pretentious penthouse suites of world famous five star hotels in the good company of prostitutes -male prostitutes at that.

As he held the woman he was about to steal a massive amount of cash from, an odd sense of guilt crept up inside him. No, it couldn't be guilt, Sawyer didn't feel guilt, ever. He must just feel sorry for the poor woman, in whichever direction she looked, she was getting screwed over, and she had no idea.

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* * *

.

He was only a couple of days away from sealing this deal, then he'd have enough money to lay low for a while.

But no matter how hard he tried to reason with himself, he couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, something just didn't feel right, this job wasn't cutting it for him, it was almost as if, he didn't belong in this world anymore.

He brushed the feeling away, it had to be something else, he had been a conman for the better part of his life, he wasn't going to change now, was he?

Later that day, he burst into Hibbs' favourite bar and declared, with all the determination he could muster, "I'm out."

"What d'ya mean, you're out?" Hibbs demanded, slightly annoyed.

"Of this sham, I ain't going through with it," Sawyer explained himself.

"Oh, really?" Hibbs raised an eyebrow. "It's getting to be a bit of a habit of yours to barge in here and make rash decisions, that will take me the grand total of three and a half minutes to talk you out of. Why don't you do both of us a favour, and just think before you speak. Now get back to the job, and finish it."

Hibbs swerved around on his stool and returned to his Jack Daniels.

This kind of attitude unnerved Sawyer, Hibbs was always so damn sure of himself, of what he was saying, of everything, so he repeated himself even more determined that before, "I'm done, I'm not going to finish it."

"You can't be serious," Hibbs jaw dropped slightly. "You've only got a couple of days to go, five tops, then you're done."

"What can I say? I just ain't feeling it," Sawyer sighed. Hibbs looked at him insistently, urging him to go on. "Something is off. I'm not sure of what it is, something is missing ..."

"... thrill," Hibbs finished for him. "What is it you don't feel that rush of adrenaline shooting through your veins as the prospect of getting your hands on a shit load of cash gets nearer and nearer?"

Sawyer cocked his head to one side, maybe that's the problem, it wasn't guilt, it wasn't feeling out of place, it was boredom, that's what it was, it had to be.

"Maybe these kind of cons are getting too easy for you," Hibbs suggested, before downing his drink in a oner.

"Maybe," Sawyer shrugged.

"How 'bout we try you on something a little more challenging? Get you out of your comfort zone, see what you're really capable of doing, see just how good you really are?"

Sawyer looked at the other man sceptically.

Hibbs cleared his throat, "Wife of the head of a major medical research facility, she's unhappy, he's a first class ass hole, you've to go there and relieve them of a hundred grand."

"And how exactly is this job any different from my usual ones, sad, bored and lonely women, tossed aside by their work-a-holic husbands," Sawyer stated.

"Aha, that's the twist, the part where the game gets interesting, my friend," Hibbs chuckled. "You see this woman, she ain't like your usual air headed bombshells, she's not stupid, quite the opposite actually. Try yourself out on her, see if you can run rings around a woman who's IQ is higher than the room temperature in Celsius degrees."

Sawyer cast Hibbs an interested look, it might actually be interesting to try his moves with someone who actually finds six, when she adds three and three together -and without the help of a calculator.

"Where am I off to then?" Sawyer asked.

"Sonny Crockett and Rico Tubbs' playground," he paused dramatically, before adding. "Miami."

.

TBC ...

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* * *

**A/N:** I'm not done with my other story.

I have a chapter practically ready to go, I'm just having a bit of fun, original idea suggested by _**skysamuelle**_ on Live Journal.

In case you hadn't caught on, Jack's plan worked, they landed in LAX safely, never crashing on the island, if it still exists …

Nobody remembers anything from what happened but didn't really happen since detonating Jughead changed everything, it's a real reset.


	2. A Belle and a Southern Gentleman

**A/N:** Thank you everyone for such a warm response to this fic, some of you have high expectations for it, which is making me a bit nervous, hope this is up to your standards :)

This wasn't supposed to take as long as it did, but I had some trouble structuring this chapter.

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* * *

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"Juliet, that's it, I'm putting my foot down this time, I have had enough."

Juliet set her half empty mug on the kitchen counter and looked up at her sister, who was busy cooking, "Oh, Rach, it's not that bad, it could be worse."

"Don't you even dare 'Oh, Rach' me," Rachel said as she turned angrily towards Juliet, angrily pointing a spatula at her. "And it isn't _that_ bad? Have you lost your mind or is he dosing you with Xanax? It is that bad, actually, it's worse than that, worse than bad! The man's a jerk, Jules, the biggest bastard to have ever walked on the face of the earth! He's using you, making a profit from all your hard work while he's screwing some secretary in his office. I guess it could be worse, he could be doing her in your office, while you're down in the lab slaving over test tubes."

"Research assistants," Juliet said so softly that Rachel almost didn't hear her.

"What?"

"It's not secretaries, he prefers research assistants," she repeated more clearly, setting off her sister into a rant about men being useless scum bags, and how women would be better off without them -how Juliet would be better off without Edmund.

She was right, of course. It was just _that_ bad.

Three years ago, she had been tidying up Edmund's paperwork, when she had found divorce papers, he had filled them out, all that was left for her to do was sign them. At first, she had been shocked, as if someone had dropped a bomb on her lap. Finding the papers had been unexpected, yet they hadn't been a total surprise. She and Edmund had been married a little under three years, and he had lost interest in her almost two years ago. So as she sat there, in his office, in their home, with tears stinging her eyes, she nearly had signed them, but had chickened out, decided it would be better if she just waited until he officially gave them to her and buried herself in work.

She had been secretly working on a developing a drug which would allow women, who had undergone chemotherapy to have children, and Rachel was her test subject. Instead of going home after work, she would stay in the lab, focusing on her research, and then she had a break through, her sister, who's fertility had become almost non existent due to the roughness of the courses of chemo she had went through, was pregnant.

Rachel was ecstatic, Juliet was elated, Edmund found out, had realised just how much money he could make off of her, and had never given her the divorce papers.

The day after Rachel had told her the good news, she had been going over some figures in her office, when Edmund had walked in -without knocking, as usual. He was carrying a kraft envelope in his hands, she thought the day had finally come, he was going to give her the divorce papers, he looked at her expectantly for a minute before saying, "Juliet, we need to talk."

"Sure," she replied, shuffling her papers into a neat pile and putting her pen down. "What's up?"

"I know what you've been doing, Jules."

She looked up at him, confused, "What are you talking about?"

"I was checking your reports, and what you took out of the lab, who's your guinea pig? It's Rachel isn't it?" he said, barely containing the excitement in his voice.

"Look, Ed," she cleared her throat, trying to stand up for herself a bit. "I've been doing my research in my own time, in my own lab, I really don't see how this is of any concern ..."

"Look, Julie, there are two ways this can play out. Your research is genius, it's going to change the lives of thousands of women. On the other hand, it raises some serious ethical questions, maybe even criminal," he emphasised on the word 'criminal'.

Juliet looked at him nervously, her breath was quickening, and anxiety was rising inside her chest. Was he really insinuating, what he appeared to be insinuating? Was he really threatening her?

"If you collaborate with me, based on my reputation, all this is viewed as cutting edge science. And we will win prizes and drink champagne," he continued.

"I'm not interested in publishing, Ed. It's my sister," she said.

"Juliet, we could do a lot of good for people," he finished.

So she had been faced with a Cornelian dilemma, work with Edmund, or be reported to the ethics board, the saying being stuck between a rock and a hard place had never felt as true.

When she signed the paperwork with Edmund, part of her felt as if she was signing her life away. If she had thought her life had been bad before, it got considerably worse.

Even though Juliet's name was attached to the drug, it was Edmund Burke's that was remembered by the investors, he had made sure of it. As he became more and more famous in the medical circle, Juliet recoiled into the shadow of his ego.

She tried to convince herself that it didn't matter, that she wasn't much of a public speaker anyway, but it still hurt. And as if to make matters worse, Edmund wasn't even going to the hassle of concealing his numerous affairs from the public eye. She had known he was being unfaithful to her, she had found the odd lipstick mark on his shirt when she did the laundry, but at least he had made been discreet.

But now it was like it had become a right of passage -each new female lab assistant had to take a detour through Ed's office before she began work. Everybody knew, Everybody knew Juliet knew. And Juliet knew they were talking about it behind her back.

"Juliet, are you even listening to me?" Rachel's irritated tone brought her out of her reverie.

"It doesn't matter, I still have to go," she sighed.

"No, you don't," her sister argued.

"Maybe not as his wife, but as his employee … I don't have a choice," she looked at her watch. "I better get going, I have to get ready."

"How do you do it? How can you go to this party which is basically just a reminder of everything he stole from you. This party should be for you, not for him."

Juliet looked at her big sister with sad eyes, as if to say 'don't I know', "I'll call you later, ok?"

As Juliet let herself out the front door, she heard her sister call out, "It's my birthday next month, do you know what would be the best gift ever? If you got yourself a divorce."

If only she could.

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* * *

.

A bit more intelligent than his usual marks?

"No kidding", Sawyer mumbled as he walked up the steps to the reception.

The woman was practically a Marie Curie in her field, a freaking genius.

He was convinced her IQ score was higher than the IQ of all his previous marks -put together.

As soon as Hibbs had given him her name, he had done some research.

Juliet Burke, early thirties, she was a medical doctor, some sort of fertility specialist, and she worked in the Medical Research Laboratory, at Miami Central University.

According to the articles google had returned when he had looked her up, about three years ago she had made a major medical break through. She had found a way to make sterile women pregnant, women who had underwent colossal courses of chemotherapy, rendering them infertile, were now giving birth to babies, thanks to her.

Impressive, had been his first thought.

How was a woman with a brain like that living in an unhappy marriage, was his second.

It didn't take long for him to come across the answer.

When you searched "Juliet Burke" on google, there were a couple of articles explaining how ground breaking the drug she had created was. But when you actually searched the name of the drug, it wasn't Juliet's name that came up, instead there were thousands of articles about Edmund Burke's research facility coming up with the miracle drug, which gave woman, for whom motherhood was an unattainable dream, the opportunity to become mothers.

He had stolen all her thunder, and, yet, three years down the road, she was still married to the son of a bitch, this made no sense whatsoever to Sawyer, who spent a good ten minutes wondering exactly what was wrong with this woman.

He had come to the conclusion that she just had to fit the stereotype of the perfect little scientist, massive IQ, emotionally stunted and socially awkward. He could just imagine her, pale skin, no make-up, unruly hair, dressed like it's 1994, squinting behind her thick glasses down into a microscope. The typical geek.

When Hibbs had said it wasn't one of his usual jobs, he hadn't been half right.

Right now he felt like he had gave up spending time with Daphne Blake, to try and coax Velma Dinkley away from her microscopes long enough to convince her to part with a hundred thousand dollar bills.

Great.

Tonight she was at some big flashy event praising her husband's success -the woman must be a masochist, and that was where he was planning on making his entrance into her life. He was living dangerously, working under her husband's eye, he had to admit that the idea alone enticed him, maybe Hibbs had been right, all he needed was a little bit of excitement.

He scanned the room.

Suits. Bimbos in short tight dresses. More suits. Even more bimbos.

What the hell was he doing, it's not as if he was going to be able to single her out in the crowd, he had never seen her before, he didn't even know what colour of hair she had.

He asked the guy standing next to him, "You know Juliet Burke?"

The guy shrugged and moved along, so he asked a couple more, each time he got the same answer, a shrug. For crying out loud, where the hell was she, and how was it that all these people, who were here to celebrate her husband's greatness, didn't have a clue who she was.

Finally, when he had almost lost all hope of spotting her tonight, someone pointed him towards the bar, there was a blond sitting alone on a stool.

The closer he got, the more he liked what he was seeing. Tall, slim, long blond hair, from where he was standing the curves of her dress suggested a more than generous cleavage.

If this had been an episode of Tex Avery, the wolf would have already been out howling, banging his fists against the bar, with his eyes popping out of his sockets.

Maybe this would be more enjoyable than he thought, he said to himself as he approached her.

.

* * *

.

Here she was, sitting at the bar, all by herself, starring down into her glass.

They had barely been at the reception for half an hour and Edmund had already ditched her, apparently he needed to speak with an investor about something. Well unless that investor was a twenty something, voluptuous brunette, who's dress left little to the imagination, she guessed he had lied again.

She sighed, downing her drink.

As she put the glass back down, a southern voice drawled from behind, "You shouldn't drink alone. People always find out, and then it ruins the reputation."

She couldn't help herself from bursting into a fit of giggles, she turned around towards the man, she sized him up, tall, blond, good looking, a bit of a bad boy thing going for him -definitely not her type.

Not that she was that picky, not that she had ever had the choice really, she took what came to her. After all, she was and would always be a science geek, even in an expensive little black dress, which hugged her more figure in all the right places, when she looked at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn't see past that label someone had tagged her with in High School.

He looked at her funny, "Why ya laughing?"

"That line," she smiled. "It's out of Gone with the Wind."

He squinted at her, as if he was trying to read her mind, "So?"

"So, you don't look like the type of guy who would sit through a four long epic love story," she commented.

"More like an epic hate story. And, as a matter of fact, I haven't seen the movie, if you must know everything, I read the book," he said, leaning his weight against the bar.

"Really?" she raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, ma'am, read it a couple of years ago, decent enough story, the beginning's a bit long, and the end is a bit rushed, but what can you do ..."

"So, Rhett Butler, you like your books?" she asked, kind of glad to have someone to keep her company.

He grinned back at her, revealing a particularly attractive set of dimples, she noticed, "Indeed I do. And the name's Sawyer."

She laughed, "Didn't think you looked much like a Rhett. I'm Juliet."

She gestured him to take the stool next to her, he complied and said, "It's a pleasure. Can I get you a refill?"

She shouldn't, it wasn't reasonable, she had to be up for work in the morning. What the heck, she thought, live a little, "Why not?"

.

.

_**TBC**_

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* * *

**A/N:** FYI, just in case you don't know, Daphne Blake (hot chick) and Velma Dinkley (nerdy chick) are the female characters out of Scooby Doo.


	3. The Scarlett Item

**A/N: **Thank you all very much for the positive feedback for this story, it's so flattering, you guys are the best.

I wanted to get another chapter of my other story typed up before starting on a new chapter for this one, but, oh well … with a bit of luck that one will be up shortly.

Hope you enjoy it at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it, haha :)

Also, **sky samuelle**, I might have to depart a bit from the original plot I so graciously snagged off of you, I hope you don't mind.

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* * *

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For a reception Juliet had dragged her heels to, it had turned out to be a more than enjoyable evening. It was the first time in ages that she hadn't spent the night alone, in a dark corner or sipping a glass of Merlot at the bar.

They had continued their conversation about books, it was nice to have someone who enjoyed a good book as much as she did, Rachel had never been one to curl up in a corner and just read, Juliet frequently teased that the only thing her sister had read from cover to cover was _Cosmo_, and even that had to be dealt with in several sittings. Rachel would snap back that at least she had had fun in her youth.

Of course, Sawyer had mocked the fact that her favourite book was _Carrie_, according to him she didn't look like the kind of girl who would enjoy Stephen King, she countered back that he didn't really come across as the kind of guy who would read _Gone with the Wind_.

"Touché," he had said, with a smile on the corner of his mouth.

At some point she had asked him which of the big pharmaceutical tycoon he was working for, he had given her a blank look, raised his hands in surrender and said, "Okay, you got me. I don't work for a pharmaceutical company, to be a hundred percent honest, I shouldn't really be here."

She had immediately wondered what on earth he was doing at the reception if it wasn't to kiss Edmund's ass and try and get him to sign some billion dollar contract. Thankfully, he caught on to her uncertainty and continued, "I was meeting a potential client in the bar downstairs. He didn't show. I was just about to leave when I saw a sign for this event, on the off chance it was an open bar thing ..."

Juliet looked at him with disbelief, but she had to admit that she appreciated the man's honesty, "You decided to crash the party?"

"You're not going to get me kicked out, are you?" he asked.

"And you didn't leave when you realised the drinks weren't free?" she ignored his question.

"I saw a pretty blonde, sitting alone at the bar, looking as if she needed some company ..."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere with me," she said, before adding. "But I appreciate the effort."

She didn't press the matter further, she didn't want to scare away the only person in the room who was paying attention to her, and she liked him. It was funny how comfortable she felt with someone she had never seen before this evening, there was just something about him that inspired her to let her guard down for a while -well that or the Merlot, she wasn't exactly sure how many glasses she had drank.

But by the time the young guy behind the bar was ready to close up and practically begging them to finish their drinks so he could get on with his life, she felt rather tipsy. Not so much that she couldn't put one foot in front of the other, but just enough to not jump away from Sawyer when he put her arm through his and walked her out.

As she slid into the taxi, she felt him slip something into her hand as he said, "If you ever want to talk about books or something ..."

It was his card, with his phone number.

"Juliet!" Rachel snapped her out of her reverie. "Were you even listening to what I was saying?"

"Umm?" Juliet replied, her sister had dropped by to see if she could borrow one of her dresses for a date that evening. "I'm so sorry, Rach, what were you saying?"

"I was asking you whether I should wear the black one or the blue one," she asked dangling two dresses in front of Juliet's eyes.

"The black," Juliet said without hesitation. "It'll bring out the femme fatale in you."

Rachel chuckled, Juliet continued pointing towards the back of the closet, "But if you look in the back of over there, that red number will make you look like a real cougar."

"Oh! My! God!" Rachel laughed as she took the Scarlett item out. "Where on earth did you get this? And why? It's so not you."

It was true, the flashy red dress looked absolutely out of place in her closet, it was very far from her usual neutral colour cardigans, it was also very clingy and very very low cut.

"Uh, I guess it must have seemed like a good idea at the time," Juliet replied, not really remembering how she had acquired the dress. Her cheeks turned slightly pink.

"Don't get me wrong Jules, I'm sure you'd look fantastic in it."

Juliet looked at her sister sceptically.

"You can deny it as much as you like, little sis', you have a fantastic body," Rachel assured her. "It's just not what you usually go for. You know what you should do? You should wear it to one of Ed's dull events in that dress, and ignore him all night, while you flirt with every single other man there. That'll show that cheating bastard!"

Juliet giggled, if only she had the guts to.

"Speaking of dull events, how was last night? Unbearable as usual?" Rachel asked.

"Actually, I enjoyed myself, it was fun."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Why? What happened? Did someone throw a glass of Chardonnay in Edmund's face again? Man, I'd have loved to be a fly on the wall that night!"

Juliet laughed at the memory. Karma was a bitch, really, a couple of months earlier, at a similar reception, Edmund had pinched a woman's backside, thinking she was someone else, turned out she was the uptight wife of an investor, and she had swerved around and dumped the contents of her glass on Edmund.

Juliet had almost went up to the woman and congratulated her.

"No," Juliet replied almost sheepishly.

"What?" Rachel pressed.

"It's nothing, really. I had a nice conversation with a guy. It was nice," Juliet said as placidly as she could.

"You met a guy! Juliet, that's awesome!" her sister said merrily. "Is he good looking?"

"It's not like that, Rach. It was just talking, and I'm married," she added, twisting the wedding ring around her finger.

"Yeah, right," Rachel snorted. "At best, you're in an open marriage, and it's about time you took advantage of it, if Ed can go out and screw anything in a skirt, you can go and have some good time too, god knows you need it."

"Rachel!"

"Seriously, sis, you're married, and I'm a single mother in remission from cancer, and even I've had more sex than you in the past three years. I'm sure mom's had sex more than you in the past three years," Rachel pointed out, ignoring the looks of horror Juliet was giving her. "So is he good looking?"

"Yes."

"Do you have his number or something?"

Juliet remembered the little piece of cardboard she had left in her jacket pocket, "Yes."

"Well, then it's settled then, you call him up, and ask him out for drinks. And you wear the red dress," Rachel said, determined.

"But … Rach, I can't, you know me, it's not the sort of thing I do."

"Wrong. It might not the sort of thing genius but geeky Juliet Burke does, but it's totally the kind of thing smart, sexy, sassy and confident Juliet Carlson Burke would do," Rachel said, raising the dress in front of her and waggling her eyebrows suggestively.

"Don't you have a date to get to?" Juliet asked, feigning annoyance, even though deep down she knew her big sister was right.

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* * *

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As soon as Rachel had left, Juliet had realised she had better get started on dinner, Edmund would be home soon, and he'd be expecting to just have to sit down and be served.

Of course at some point during the meal, he would mock her cooking skills, or lack thereof and make a crack about how it was strange that she was so talented with mixing chemicals and coming up with life changing drugs, yet she couldn't even get scrambled eggs right. And as usual, Juliet would just ignore it, let it fly five miles above her head, or at least pretend she didn't feel hurt by his constant snide comments.

She was starting to get worried that some day she would reach breaking point, snap and mix a lethal cocktail in with his vegetable soup. She could just picture Horacio Cane and his gang striving in in their Hummers to investigate the crime scene. They would have a pool of suspects, tons of people hated Edmund Burke -jealous competitors, scorned mistresses, the scorned husbands of those mistresses, but they would quickly come to the conclusion that the real culprit was the quiet geeky wife.

Then she'd be carted off to jail for the rest of her life.

She wished she could come up with an excuse to be out when he got back. She wished her mother hadn't been in town, then she'd be the one babysitting Julian while Rachel was out on her date. She wished she had the guts to kick him out.

A little less than an hour later, dinner was ready, his daily glass of whiskey was waiting for him on the table, and Juliet was reading her favourite passage of _Carrie_, all that was missing was him. The phone rang, she just let the answering machine pick it up.

"_Jules, it's me_," Edmund's voice croaked. "_I'm sorry I couldn't call you earlier, but I was called out this morning for a meeting in New York, I thought I'd be able to make it home on time, but the meeting is just running along, we might even have to work tomorrow. See you at work, first thing on Monday_."

Juliet looked up at the answering machine with fury, as if it was the machine that had just given her that pathetic excuse.

Hadn't he supposed to be spending the day at the Country Club, playing golf and getting steam baths?

A last minute meeting in New York on a Saturday that might run on until Sunday? Of course that made perfect sense. And was that a female she had heard laughing in the background?

She couldn't believe it, he couldn't even get his new girlfriend to shut up long enough to leave a pathetic lie on the answering machine.

The son of a bitch.

That was it, she had had it.

She stormed off to the closet in the entrance hall and grabbed the jacket she had been wearing the night before, she pulled out the little piece of cardboard, and dialled the number from it.

Someone picked up on the third ring, "Yes."

"Hi, it's Juliet, from last night," she said, as determined as ever.

"Oh, hey," Sawyer replied.

"I was wondering if you would happen to be free for drinks tonight?"

"Yeah, sure," he said eagerly.

They arranged to meet an hour later in a classy bar just next to the marina.

Juliet was now frantically trying to find something to wear, while at the same time losing her nerve. What had she been thinking? She couldn't honestly go through with this, she collapsed on to her bed, unsure of what she was going to do next. But then two things caught her eye: her and Edmund's wedding photograph, and that damn red dress.

.

* * *

.

One thing was for sure, he had not expected her to hear from her that soon.

In fact, after he had seen her off the night before, he had doubted that he would ever hear from her again. He wasn't used to working with women like her.

When she had flatly told him that flattery wouldn't get him anywhere with her, he had instantly known that she wasn't about to fall for his usual lines. She also didn't seem to be like the kind of person who would step out on her husband, not matter how many whores the douche bag was doing behind her back.

Regardless, he had had a nice time with her, it was refreshing to talk with someone who knew something beyond the contents of Jennifer Aniston's latest diet and the first and last names of all of Elizabeth Taylor's Husbands. He had been even more delighted to find out she liked her books almost as much as he did.

Of course, her obsession with Stephen King's Carrie was a bit terrifying, but totally amusing. He wondered if she could see herself in Carrie, she was a little withdrawn and he had read just how intelligent she was. He knew how kids like that were treated in High School, if you're not a jock or a cheerleader, they make sure your life is hell.

So when she had called, asking him out for drinks, he had been surprised, but he had immediately accepted, and here he was, sitting in a bar, waiting for her to arrive. Turning his head around every time he heard the door open to see if it was her. A few girls in skimpy outfits came in, followed by a group of guys in business suits, then a couple, then finally ...

His eyes literally popped out of their sockets, there she was, scanning the room looking for him, dressed in what Sawyer concluded to be the sexiest red dress he had ever seen on anyone. It was clingy in all the right places, and low cut, revealing just enough to be enticing, but not so much that it was indecent.

If Sawyer hadn't known better he would never have guessed this was the same shy woman from the night before. All the guys in the bar were starring at her, transfixed, she remained un-phased by this, almost as if she wasn't aware of her effect on the opposite gender.

Meow! Sawyer thought as he waived to attract her attention.

Let the show begin.

.

_TBC..._


	4. Lust

**A/N: **You have no idea how fun this is to write.

Thank you so much for all the encouragement in your reviews.

I meant to have this up a couple of days ago, but I tend to got distracted by trivialities, such as the new Tarantino movie, going out, clothes shopping, keeping up my Free cell stats and watching Gordon Ramsay verbally destroy people on the telly.

Hope it was worth the wait.

**//WARNING//: **rating change, it's nothing too graphic, but if you're the kind of person who blushes when there's an advert for condoms on the telly don't say I didn't warn you …

.

* * *

.

She had never felt this nervous in her entire lifetime.

Juliet Burke was a genuine good girl, the kind who always made sure to never cross the line, the kind who felt bad when the guy behind the till in Starbucks forgot to make her pay for the muffin she had had with her latte. So getting all dolled up to meet with a man she had only met the night before with every intention of stepping out on her husband was absolutely out of character, even if her husband was the biggest ass-hole of all times.

She nearly chickened out of the whole thing at several occasions on her way to meet Sawyer.

Every single time the cab got stopped at a red light, she almost asked the driver to make a U-turn and take her back to where he had picked her up, but every time she thought about turning around, Edmund's smug grin would appear in her head. She could just imagine him on Monday morning, waltzing through her office door like he owned the place, with his -_guess what I was doing with my twenty something research assistant this weekend, and before you ask, nope, it wasn't research_- smile.

Well at least this Monday, she would be able to greet him with a -_and guess who spent her weekend with a handsome charming Southern guy (who looks like he was hand picked out of a Calvin Klein commercial), not talking about the weather, if ya' know what I mean_- face.

And that thought alone gave her the strength to go on to the next traffic light, and then the one after that, until finally she reached her destination.

Now she was standing in front of the bar, debating whether to enter or not. It's not that the prospect of giving Edmund a taste of his own medicine wasn't enough anymore, it's just that she wasn't one hundred percent sure she was capable of doing this. She had never been a social butterfly, and she had been out of the dating scene for quite a while now, and she wasn't exactly sure she remembered what the codes used to be back then, and had absolutely no idea of what the standards were today.

Suddenly her dress felt far too tight, far too uncomfortable She was petrified.

No, she couldn't do this. It was impossible. She couldn't go in. This wasn't her.

But maybe she didn't have to be her. Perhaps for one night, she could just not be Juliet the geek, maybe just for tonight she could be that -how had Rachel put it? _ Smart, sexy, sassy and confident_.

She took a deep breath, she could do this!

"Smart, sexy, sassy and confident. Smart, sexy, sassy and confident," she chanted over and over again in her head as she pushed to entrance door to the bar open.

She looked around. The place was rather crowded, small groups of people were clustered at each table. She didn't spot him until he waved at her. She walked over to him, relieved -now that he had seen her she couldn't bail out anymore.

"Nice dress," he commented. She blushed when he leaned into her and whispered to her ear, "I know you said, you don't fall for flattery, but I'm just stating out loud what every other man in this room is thinking."

The sensation of his breath against her neck sent chills down her spine causing her to blush even more.

The first couple of minutes were rather awkward, she didn't really know what to say, if or whether she should initiate anything. She could ask him about his job, where he was from exactly, what he enjoyed doing during his spare time, or something, but his answers would turn him into a real person in her eyes, and then she wouldn't be able through with this. He would no longer be the mysterious stranger she happened to have a one night stand with, he'd be Bob the Builder from Tennessee or Ted the insurance man from Alabama. And she just couldn't allow that.

The atmosphere got tremendously lighter once she had had the first couple of sips of her cocktail and he had launched the conversation on a neutral topic.

She loosened up as he told her exactly why he thought Dan Brown's _Deception Point_ was so much better than the _Da Vinci Code_. She had agreed before arguing that, while _Deception Point_ was superior to the _Da Vinci Code_, Brown's best book was, without contest, _Digital Fortress_. He then admitted that he hadn't gotten around to reading that one yet.

As the evening progressed and drinks were downed, Juliet felt more and more at her ease. Momentarily she forgot why she had asked him to meet her at this bar, and just enjoyed the evening. Yet again she was surprised by how totally and completely comfortable she could feel with a person who would have been a stranger for her just yesterday afternoon.

All too soon, the evening came to an end and the bartender called for last orders. She could hardly believe that she had been at bar until closing time two nights in a row.

As they stood outside the bar, waiting for a taxi, she knew this was it. This was her chance, it was now or never. Her future, or at least the next couple of hours of it, was entirely in her hands.

She took a deep breath, mustered up all her courage and kissed him.

.

* * *

.

He had absolutely not anticipated this turn of events.

It was one thing for her to have called up and set up this little rendez-vous.

It was one thing for her to turn up at the bar in that dress -a dress that would drive any sane straight man insane.

It was another thing entirely for her to jump on him while they were waiting for a taxi.

Either the woman was schizophrenic or she had a twin sister, who was her exact opposite when it came to social behaviour.

He had been prepared for this one to be a slow job.

He would have had to become her friend first, then her confident, then he would work his magic Southern Charm with a hint of dimples on top, she would fall for him, he'd lay out his scam, she'd her husband to give him the money, and voilà. Mission accomplished.

But here he was, in the middle of a street in Miami, with his tongue halfway down the throat of the woman he had every intention of conning, barely a day after he had first met her.

It was unbelievable, even his usual trophy wife marks put up a little resistance at first. Juliet Burke was not only surrendering, she offering everything she had on a silver platter.

He had been so sure of himself when he had pegged her as a woman of honour, the kind of woman who wouldn't be unfaithful to her husband, no matter what. Well, apparently he had been very very wrong and had lost his ability to read women, that or every woman, no matter how attached she was to her moral values, had a breaking point after which values meant nothing anymore.

Oh well, he wasn't about to complain about his job being to easy, especially when it meant that he was going to get some tonight, with a really hot woman.

They broke apart long enough to ask him breathlessly, "Where are you staying?"

Her hands were all over him in the taxi, through his hair, up the back of his shirt. How they managed to stay dressed in the taxi was beyond him, he was inches away from just taking her right there and then in the back seat when the driver announced their arrival with a, "That'll be eleven dollars."

She tossed a twenty dollar note in his hand and told him to keep the change as he pulled her out of the taxi. Before they had reached the room, he pinned her against the wall, finally allowing his hands to roam all over her body, her neck, her breasts, her back, her ass.

He pulled her up and she wrapped her legs around him, he was kissing the crook of her neck passionately when she asked huskily, "which room?"

He let her down, grabbed her wrist and dragged her down the hall, in front of the door, he quickly fumbled in his back pocket and unlocked it. He pulled her inside with him, kicking the door closed behind him. He immediately got working on the zip of her dress. Soon enough they were both in their underwear He got his first glimpse of her body. And wow, she was beautiful, slim, but curvy in all the right places, and one hundred percent natural. And God only knows how long it had been since Sawyer had last seen a woman who hadn't at least had a boob job naked.

He kissed her while he orientated her towards the bed, before pushing her down beneath him.

While he started working his way down her body, her hands were on his back, slightly grazing his skin with her nails. He was just about to unhook her bra, when …

"Stop," she said out of breath.

She couldn't be serious. He stopped what he was doing and looked at her straight in the eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she apologised, pushing him off of her, and standing up. He caught her by the wrist, forcing her to turn around and face him, she was fighting it, but he could see that she was on the verge of tears.

"What's the matter?" he asked softly.

"I can't," she replied simply, as the first tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm married. I thought I could do this. I thought that after everything he put me through I could do this … but I just can't. As much as I would like to, I can't."

"Hey," he said, pulling her back down on the bed to sit beside him, and wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," she said defeated. "He goes out and has dozens of affairs, and when he comes home he treats me like the help. And I don't have the guts to leave him."

"It's going to be okay," he soothed, running a hand through her hair.

"I'm sorry ..." she stood up again and retrieved her dress from the floor and hastily put it back on.

He was stunned.

Everything had been going so well, until it went completely off track. He hadn't been _that_ wrong about her after all, she wasn't one of _those _women. What to do now? If she walked out the door, he would never see her again, he would lose his way in. And his con would be screwed, and he'd have to go back to Los Angeles with his tail between his legs and admit to Hibbs that he hadn't been able to finish the job.

She had her hand on the handle, ready to open the door when he blurted out, "Wait."

She spun around, looking at him uncomfortably, with anxiety in her eyes, her whole body was tense, all she wanted was to get out of here, fast, and go far away -he could tell.

"Listen, Juliet, I'd understand if you say 'no', but truth be told I really enjoyed spending time with you, just talking and stuff," he paused. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to go on. "And I'm going to be in Miami for a while on this job, and I don't know anybody here, so could I call you sometime? And we could meet up again?"

He recognised a mix of horror and mortification in her eyes, seeing him again? That was the last thing she wanted to do, it would just remind her of the fiasco that was this evening. For some odd reason, he felt uneasy pressuring her, but he had to, it was the only way he'd get anywhere near getting the money.

"I don't mean in that way," he tried to reassure her. "We could see each other during the day, for lunch or something. I liked our conversations yesterday, and earlier this evening, I have a feeling that we could be friends."

She looked at him with scepticism.

"We'll just act like all of this," his eyes circled around the room. "Never happened."

For a while she just stood there, as if she was lost for words, and unsure of what to do next. Sawyer waited anxiously for her reaction, just as he thought all hope was lost, she grabbed the pen and pad of paper that were lying on the desk and scribbled something down.

She nodded, gave him a little nervous smile, and let herself out.

He walked over to the desk and picked up the pad, she had scribbled her cell phone number down, he sighed of relief.

The game was back on.

It was back to plan A, but still the game was back on, and the hundred grand back in sight.

.

.

_TBC …_


	5. Falling

**A/N:** I know right? What's with the speedy update?

I think, I just wanted to get this boring transitional chapter over and done with so I could get on with the action.

I apologise in advance, this chapter is all over the place, and kind of clumsy, I tried to organise it a bit better, but this is the best I could do.

.

* * *

.

The next couple of weeks went by smoothly.

At first she had been a more than just a little apprehensive about keeping in touch with Sawyer after what had happened.

After she had left that hotel room, she had been extremely mortified by the turn of events. She couldn't believe that she had went so far, only to pull back at the last moment. There was a word for women who did things like that, tease. A label, Juliet had never thought would be fit for her.

But when he had tried to unhook her bra, she had panicked, she couldn't go through with it anymore.

And then she had cried. Cried about her unfaithful husband in front of him, and that just made her feel pathetic. She had just wanted the ground to open up and swallow her.

She had been surprised when he had asked her if he could call her again. Why on earth would he even want to do that?

She hadn't been with many, if any, understanding men in her life. She had hesitated for a minute, while she stood at the door, but he was right, she did enjoy spending time with him, he had been the only person, apart from Rachel, who had given her his undivided attention, and appeared to be actually interested in what she was saying in quite some time.

And, oddly enough, they shared quite a couple of things in common, such as a fondness for good old fashioned rock'n roll from the 1960s, or disrespect for people who dog-eared the pages of their book to mark the place where they stopped reading.

If he could get passed what had taken place, or rather what hadn't taken place in that hotel room, well so could she.

And that was the best decision she had taken in a long time.

They had met up every couple of days for lunch, when their schedules allowed them to do so, sometimes she had to work through lunch, and sometimes he had to meet up with prospective clients or investment opportunities -he was a commodity derivatives investor.

At the beginning, they had stuck to the usual casual topics -books, movies, music and politics. But progressively their conversations became more and more personal.

Soon enough, he had become a true confident, a person of trust, someone, other than Rachel, she could pour her heart to.

One Saturday morning, over coffee, Rachel asked her how things were going with 'Evil Ed', and if she had made up her mind about getting a divorce yet. In lieu of an answer, Juliet had simply sighed. She knew her sister was right, but the constant pressure was unnerving.

"What about that guy you met a few weeks ago, did you ever call him?"

"No," Juliet had replied quickly, a little too quickly perhaps.

"You did, didn't you? Why didn't you tell me, Jules?"

"We're just friends, nothing has happened between us ..."

"Yet," Rachel finished for her sister.

Juliet raised an eyebrow.

"You wouldn't have lied about it, if it was _only _friendship," Rachel stated. "I'm happy for you little sis', you deserve something good from life, maybe this is your shot at that 'happily ever after' thing."

Maybe Rachel was right. Maybe this was her chance at happiness. She didn't know.

The only thing she was absolutely certain of was the fact that she was falling for Sawyer and falling fast.

.

* * *

.

"Come on," she said, pulling him towards her car. "I want to show you something."

They were supposed to be going for lunch at a little seafood restaurant, West of Miami Beach, but he obliged and got into the passenger seat, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see when we get there," she replied excited, and turned on the radio. They stayed silent during the trip, although he had heard her hum along to Petula Clark's _Downtown_ when it was played by the radio station.

After twenty minutes of driving, she pulled over and stopped the car, "Let's go."

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Just c'mon!" she said eagerly.

He had never seen her this excited, she was usually a very calm person, soothingly calm.

He got out the car, and looked around, they were in the middle of nowhere. The place was dead, not another human being in sight. She disappeared down a track, he was curious as to why she would bring him here.

He called for her to wait up and followed her down the path.

The track lead to a little beach. It was deserted.

She just stood there, facing the sea, the wind was blowing her hair away from her face, and turning her cheeks a bright shade of pink. She had never looked this happy; she was even more beautiful.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" she broke the silence.

"Yes," he agreed, standing behind her with his hand on the small of her back.

"This is my favourite place in the world," she said, leaning against him. "When I need to think, when I'm angry, when I'm sad, I come here."

She turned around towards him, "I've never taken anyone here with me before."

He coked his head to the side, "Why me?"

And really, why him? He hadn't done anything extraordinary for her, he hadn't even put his massive seduction operation into gear yet. He had just become her friend.

She turned back towards the ocean, and said, "I don't know, I just trust you."

And just there, his heart had nearly split in two, and he had almost told her everything, that he was a conman, that he had been sent here to con her, that he was sorry, and he couldn't go through with it, because at some point this whole thing with her had become something more than just a job.

He couldn't hurt her, he could never hurt her.

But he hadn't said anything, for one thing it would just cause her pain, and then it would put an end to all of this and If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he enjoyed Juliet's company more than he had expected to.

The last couple of weeks had been his happiest in a long time.

It had been really been refreshing to spend time with a woman, without any sex or seducing being involved. The first part of his plan had been just to get to know her, become her friend.

Through time, and as she started feeling really comfortable with him, he found out that behind her timid and shy surface, she had concealed an quick, sharp and witty sense of humour, which she reserved for the lucky few who took the time to get to know her.

He didn't have to pretend that he liked spending time with her, like he had with most of the women on his previous jobs, he could almost be himself. He had discovered that she enjoyed his slightly sarcastic edge, and that she gave back as good as she got in the wit department. More than once at night, he had laughed thinking back to something she had said.

He was even starting to feel at his ease around her too, so at ease that he had almost forgotten that he was a grifter on a job one day, and nearly ruined the entire con.

She had been telling him about her childhood, growing up between Miami and Washington D.C. after her parents' divorce, she had then asked him, "What about you? What was it like where you grew up?"

"My parents died when I was a kid, grew up with my Grandparents in a trailer park," he had said without thinking. When he realised what he had said, he panicked for a minute, he quickly regained his cool and added, "In a car crash."

He hadn't ever told any of the woman he had worked on that his parents were dead, he usually invented some story about growing up on a cattle ranch and having the time of his life -cowboys turned bored rich woman on, for some odd reason.

But strangely enough, it was so difficult to lie to Juliet, it had been almost torturous for him to tell her that he was some sort of investor. He felt like she had the ability to pierce right through his bullshit, which is why he remained purposely vague about himself around her.

"If you want to have lunch before it's time for me to get back to work, we should get moving," she interrupted his thinking.

She wasn't watching the ocean anymore, she was facing him, a strand of hair flew into her face, he leaned forward to brush it away, but he didn't pull back and neither did she. They hadn't been this physically close since that second night.

His hand was still on her cheek, it was almost as if he no longer had control over his actions, he leaned in further and their lips touched.

It was sweet, slow, tender, unlike any other kiss he had ever shared with any other woman before. It almost felt like a first kiss, the first real one that mattered.

.

* * *

.

Juliet sat in her favourite chair reading John Grisham's '_An Innocent Man_', recommended by Sawyer. The story was terribly sad, but Juliet hadn't been this happy in a long time. Ever since she had left Sawyer earlier that day she had had butterflies in her stomach.

She couldn't wait to see him again.

Even Edmund had noticed something had changed when he had came home that evening.

"Did you have your hair done or something?" he had asked. "You look different."

Now he was in his office, supposedly doing paperwork, more likely sending dirty emails to some woman. Her thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing. It had been ringing off the hook all evening. She had let Edmund pick it up from his office, he was closer to it and it was probably one of his mistresses anyway.

Not even thirty seconds later, she heard him shuffle into the living room.

"It's odd," he stated.

"What's odd?" she asked, not even lifting her eyes from the pages of her book.

"The phone keeps ringing, but every time I pick it up, the person on the other end hangs up," he squinted at her, making him even less attractive than he usually was. "Do you have a lover, Juliet? Is that him calling you and hanging up when I answer?"

He followed his question with a high pitched laughed, as if what he had said was the biggest joke of the century, insinuating that she would never dare or be able to find another man.

She shot him an angry look, and he just laughed harder.

Bastard, Juliet thought.

The phone rang again.

"Maybe you should get it this time, Jules, your lovah' clearly has something important to tell you," he sniggered.

She stood up stiffly , went over to the phone and picked up.

"Hello," she said tentatively.

"_Are you Juliet Burke?_" a female voice asked on the other end.

"Yes," Juliet replied.

"_Are you seeing a guy called Sawyer?_"

"I'm sorry you must have the wrong number," Juliet said, feeling Edmund's overbearing lingering presence hovering behind her.

"_I get it, I get it. You don't want your husband to know_," the woman paused. "_But if you are, in fact seeing Sawyer, you really want to talk with me. I'm in Miami. I'll be at Maggie's Diner, just outside North Miami tomorrow at 6pm. You really should meet me there._"

And then she heard a click, the woman had hung up.

"So who was it, Jules?" Edmund enquired.

"A wrong number."

Edmund looked at her unconvinced, "You were on pretty long for a wrong number."

Juliet just shrugged, "The woman argued that this had to be the right number, and then just hung up."

.

* * *

.

Maggie's Diner.

Not the chicest place on Earth, Juliet noted. It was a run down little place, just outside Miami itself, it was blatantly obvious that the place wasn't getting too many customers. She guessed the 'mystery woman' had picked out this place exactly because of that.

Juliet sat in the booth just next to the door, clearly visible to every person who entered the diner. She was confused. Who was this woman? What did she want? What could be so important that it would warrant a clandestine meeting?

She had tossed and turned in her sleep the night before trying to figure out the answer. The only reason she had been able to come up with was that whatever this was all about, it couldn't be good.

She waited patiently. It had started to rain heavily outside, she had always found the sound of rain soothing, for some reason it wasn't the case today.

Six o'clock came, then ten past six, then half past. Juliet was at wits end, how long was she going to wait? Just when she had given up and was ready to leave, the door creaked open.

A brunette walked in and looked around the place before turning towards her and asking, "Juliet Burke?"

Juliet nodded and the woman sat down opposite her, "I'm sorry for being late, I had to find a babysitter."

Juliet just wanted her to get on with what she had to say to her, the brunette extended her hand across the table, "I'm being rude, pleased to meet you, it's a shame it's under these circumstances but what can you do? I'm Cassidy Phillips."

.

.

_TBC_

–

**A/N: **How evil am I?

Honestly, did you think it would be that easy?

I'm a sucker for "and they lived happily ever after endings", but I like a couple of dragon slayings before I send our favourite couple out into the sunset.


	6. Crumbling Down

**A/N:** A little birdie told me that 'speedy updates' are very popular, I wonder why ...

.

* * *

.

She was devastated.

Tears were streaming heavily down her face as she sat in her car, still parked in Maggie's Diner's car park, unable to go anywhere, incapable of doing anything.

She just couldn't believe it.

How could her life have taken such a drastic turn and done a complete 180 in under half an hour? How could she have been so happy not even a day ago, and feel so totally and desperately miserable now?

Cassidy had told her everything, absolutely everything.

How she had met Sawyer, how he had stolen her money. At first Juliet hadn't understood, it felt so surreal, this couldn't be happening, and why was this woman coming to see her, what did it have to do with her, Sawyer hadn't asked her for any money.

"I guess he hasn't asked you for any cash yet?" Cassidy had said when she had noticed Juliet's surprised reaction. "HE will that's how he works."

"What do you mean 'that's how he works'?" Juliet had asked.

"It's his, what do they call it, modus operandi. He finds himself a woman, with a lot of spare money in the bank, and who's husband treats her like crap or just doesn't give her the light of day anymore," Cassidy explained.

Juliet winced. No, no, no. It couldn't be, it was impossible.

"I can see from your reaction that you fit the profile. Life's a bitch isn't it?" Cassidy took a sip from the cup of coffee sitting in front of her. "As they said, when something seems just too good to be true, well then it probably is."

Cassidy had then went into a lengthy narration about her time with Sawyer and everything he had put her through. Juliet eyes grew wider and wider with each revelation.

Cassidy had called Sawyer on his con, but instead of turning him in she had gotten him to take her on as a partner. He had showed a few tricks, and they had hustled together for a while. For a while, she had thought this was it, she was set up for life, grifting with the man of her dreams. She had been wrong, as soon as he had gained her trust again, he had left her, with her money in tow.

Cassidy had pressed charges, and Sawyer had went to jail. He was supposed to be in there for seven years, but apparently had gotten out early. She had found out when she was investigating who had opened a mysterious bank account for her daughter Clementine. She knew that that money must have been ill gained, so she tracked him down, she didn't want anymore poor women being tricked by that son of a bitch.

"Why would he open a bank account for your daughter?" Juliet had interrupted, puzzled.

"Because she's his daughter too," Cassidy had said, as if she was stating the obvious.

He had a daughter.

"What are you going to do now?" Cassidy had asked as she gathered her things together.

"I have no idea," Juliet had replied honestly.

"Well if you need any help, here's my number," she had said, leaving a a piece of paper on the table. "I've been dying to trick that bastard at his own game."

The meeting had ended almost half an hour ago, and Juliet was still in her car just outside the diner.

How could she have been such a stupid fool? How had she not noticed anything? Edmund was right, her finding a new man was as preposterous an idea as polar bears on a tropical island. The only reason Sawyer, or rather James Ford, because that was his real name, had ever been even remotely interested in her was so he could con her out of a large sum of money.

She wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

After years of suffering under Edmund's thumb, of surviving public humiliation as he flaunted his affairs in her face, she had finally found the strength within her to open up to another man. How naïve had she been?

She couldn't believe that she had allowed herself to trust this man, allowed herself to fall for this man. Because she had indeed fallen for him, and that was why this hurt so much. In Sawyer, she hadn't just seen a 'bit on the side', a potential lover, while she remained in a dead end marriage, she had started contemplating possibly leaving and divorcing Edmund to be with him.

She had seen him as her knight in shining armour, ready to rescue her from the cruel hands of her captor, and she had imagined their 'happily ever after'. How pathetic of her. She was a grown woman, she should know better than to imagine her life according to ideals, which were only true to fairytales.

She just couldn't believe it. She couldn't wrap her mind around it.

Everything he had told her. Every single detail, he had confided into her was a lie, she knew nothing about this man, nothing whatsoever. And yet he knew everything about her, because she had told him, she had been so sure that he was trustworthy.

She felt betrayed and lost.

She was in a dreadful state, her heart felt like it was shattered into a thousand million tiny pieces.

What was she going to do now?

Should she call the police? But what would she tell them, he hadn't done anything wrong yet, apart from lie to her, he hadn't asked her for money.

Should she just cut all contact with him? Erase him from her life? Pretend that all of this was just a bad dream?

She looked at her reflection in the mirror, and took a deep breath.

Her eyes were red around the rim and bloodshot, she looked absolutely awful. She hoped Edmund had one of his "late meetings" and wouldn't come home, she was in no shape to handle him tonight.

She turned her key in the ignition.

She needed to seriously think things over, she was sick and tired of people walking all over her.

.

* * *

.

Sawyer was happier than he had ever been.

Kissing Juliet on the beach had felt like the most natural thing in the world. There was no pretending involved, it wasn't part of the con, he hadn't planned his move, he had just felt like it, he really liked her, more than liked her.

He had had the best night's sleep in ages and this morning in the shower, he realised he was singing The Kinks' song '_All Day and All of the Night_'. The lyrics were kind of fitting though, he did want to be with her all day and all of the night, he did want to be by her side all of the time, he did only feel right when he was by her side.

When he was around her, it was as if he could forget everything about who he was and what he had done, he could almost just be himself.

Who would have thought, he chuckled to himself, that it would be some brainy medical researcher that would turn his world upside down, eh?

Not that she wasn't attractive. She was drop dead gorgeous, even though he was sure she didn't even realise it, but she wasn't just a pretty face, she had a brilliant mind and a cunning sense of humour, and that was what made her so damn attractive to him.

She was the full package, looks and books.

It amazed him that she hadn't been snatched up by some equally smart, equally handsome hot shot CEO from some big ass company, or whatever, and that instead she was stuck with Edmund Burke. He had seen photos of the guy, and one thing was for sure, he wasn't a looker. And from what he had heard, he wasn't a charmer either, at least when it came to Juliet.

The man must be a complete moron to not realise how lucky he was to have a woman, such as Juliet, at home, and instead prefer to go out womanising.

Behind all this exhilarating happiness he was experiencing, the irony of his situation wasn't lost on him. He was a con man, on a job, and Juliet was his job.

He had almost fallen for a mark once before, but not quite, he had still been able to go through with it at the end of the day. This time he couldn't.

There was no way he would be able to live with himself if he did that to her.

What was he going to do? Come clean with her?

How well would that go, he could just imagine it in his mind.

"Hey Juliet, I lied to you, I'm a conman, I was here to steal a hundred grand from you. Don't look so worried, darling, I'm not going to go through with it, I think I'm falling for you."

Yeah, right, that'd go down like a ton of bricks.

He could always just leave, before things got too messy, before either of them got too involved. If he just left now, it wouldn't hurt her as much as it would it he told her the truth. He'd disappear from her life, just go back to Los Angeles, tell Hibbs the job was too hard, that maybe he needed some time off to get a grip of himself. Or he could just disappear for a while, go to Mexico or Canada, far from Hibbs' reach.

But he couldn't just leave her? He couldn't not see her ever again.

Maybe being one hundred percent honest with her wouldn't be so bad.

Sure, chances were that she would most likely tell him to get the hell out of her life and never come back, but what if she didn't?

There was always a glimmer of hope that she might like him just enough to give him a second chance. And if she did, well first of all it would be a freaking miracle, but then they could start fresh. He would start by taking her away from Edmund, she deserved to be treated right, with respect. He may not be a perfect man, but still, he would be an upgrade from her husband.

So he was going to tell her everything.

It was the only way, it would either destroy whatever it was that was happening between them, or it would make things considerably better.

Those were the only two alternatives, he was sure of himself.

.

* * *

.

A knock on the door stirred him from the slumber, he had drifted off into, he looked at the digital alarm clock on the bed stand, 5 pm.

He must have dosed off, his book was definitely not as much of a page turner as the back cover claimed it was.

He stood up groggily and made his way to the door, who could possibly be at his door? He wasn't expecting anyone, it's not even as if anyone knew he was here.

He opened the door.

"Juliet?" he gasped. "What are you ..."

"Not interrupting anything, I hope," she said flatly. "Mind if I come in?"

"Sure, sure," he said, letting her past, before closing the door behind her.

She looked different. Her face was expressionless, as if drained from emotion, long gone was the infectiously giddy and happy woman who had taken him to the beach the day before.

"Is everything okay?" he asked concerned. "What did Edmund do this time?"

"It's not Edmund."

"What is it? Is it Rachel or Julian? Did something happen to them?"

"No, they're fine."

She didn't say anything else for a while, she just stood there and stared at him, her eyes were as cold as steel. Something was seriously wrong. He went over to her, to take her in his arms.

"Don't touch me," she said. "Don't you dare touch me!"

It was at that moment precisely that he realised that whatever was wrong, it was something to do with him.

"How could you?" she asked.

He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything, which was a good thing, because she was far from being finished, "I trusted you. You lied to me. I can't believe I was so stupid."

"Juliet, calm down. Whatever I did, I'm sorry, I'm sure we can fix this."

"Fix this? Fix this?" she repeated bewildered. "Cut the crap, James."

James? He had never told him that his real name was James, at least not yet, he had planned on doing it the next time he saw her.

"How did you ..."

"How I found out is not relevant," she snapped. "The fact is I know everything. That you're a conman, that you've done time in prison, that the only reason you pretended to be so interested in me, was so you could get your hands on my money. I know everything."

"Juliet, listen," he tried to put his hand on her forearm, but she just pushed him away. He wanted her to know that it wasn't just a job for him, not anymore anyway. He knew that it was useless. This was the one scenario he hadn't thought of -her finding out on her own that he was a scum bag. How would she ever believe anything that came out of his mouth anymore?

It was over.

All over.

"No, I'm not listening to anyone anymore," she cut him off. "I'm done. I'm sick of people treating me like I'm a fool."

"I know you're not going to believe a single word I say, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry, I really am. I'll leave. I'll never set foot in Miami again, you'll never have to hear about me again."

"I don't want you to leave," she said in an eerily calm tone.

He looked at her with confusion, nothing made sense anymore.

"I want you to help me take care of Edmund," she added.

.

–

_TBC_

–

* * *

.

**A/N:** okay, there it is, I'm not 100% satisfied. The 'time leap' I did in the previous chapter sort of prevented me from showing you Sawyer's progression from being Sawyer to being a more compassionate individual, and that sort of bothers me.

I can't promise you daily updates anymore, and most probably not one tomorrow (I'm going to see Inglorious Basterds, again, ha!), and I actually have things to do this week, like pay my fees for Uni, otherwise I'll be up the creek without a paddle.

That being said, I have every intention of finishing this story, and my other one before classes start back, because once I go back to school, I've got a feeling I won't have much time for fun things like fan fiction, and since I don't want to leave you hanging until next June … I better get my act into gear.

As always thanks to everyone who takes the time to review, it's very much appreciated :)


	7. In for the kill

When she finally got home that evening after having met with Cassidy, she was relieved to find the house empty, if Edmund wasn't home at this time, he probably wouldn't bother coming home at all, she crossed her fingers.

She looked through the contents of her fridge, her cupboards, nothing seemed appealing. She just wasn't hungry. She had no appetite for anything.

She felt miserable.

She just wanted to go to sleep and hopefully never ever wake up.

So she went up to bed. As she slid between the sheets, she hoped she would fall asleep soon, so she could put this dreadful day behind her.

No such luck.

She tossed and turned. She just couldn't get her brain to switch off. And the more she tried to sleep, the more frustrated she felt about not sleeping, and the less close she got to actually falling asleep. It was the ultimate vicious circle.

She didn't know what to do, she felt helpless.

She looked at her alarm clock on the bed stand, 11pm, well at least Edmund hadn't come home.

At midnight, she turned her pillow around to the other side, maybe she would go to sleep if her head was resting on the cooler side.

At 1am, she tossed her covers back, she was too hot, perhaps that's why she wasn't sleeping.

At quarter past one, she was shivering, and she pulled the sheets back up.

At half past one, she tried lying out flat on her back, at twenty to two, she tried lying on her stomach, at two, she tried lying on her left side, at five past two, on her right side, with one hand under her pillow, with no hands under the pillow, with one leg hanging from the bed.

It was useless. Nothing was working.

At ten pas two, she got up, there was no use just lying around. She went downstairs and put on some tea.

Tea always soothed her when she felt upset. A nice hot cup of tea was just what she needed.

She filled up her cup, and went to living room to sit in the armchair.

She couldn't get over the fact that she had been so stupid and gullible, she was clearly the worst judge when it came to men, every single time she thought she might have found "the one", he ended up screwing her over. She was beginning to think there was no such thing as "the one".

But she wasn't devastated anymore. She didn't feel like crying anymore.

She was beyond sadness.

She was angry. Angry and frustrated, she had had more than enough of people underestimating her, and her abilities. Of people like Edmund who treated her like dirt, of people like James Ford using her. She was a grown woman, she was more than successful at her job.

People didn't respect her, well maybe that was acceptable for the old Juliet Burke, the one who married assholes, and fell for lowlife conmen, but not anymore, she was done. It was time she took matters into her own hands, and showed everyone that they couldn't just walk all over her.

First of all, she had to get rid of Edmund, and she knew just how to do that.

Once Juliet Burke had something in mind, she didn't give up until she had achieved her goal.

Sometime after, she drifted off into a welcome but uncomfortable slumber, when she opened her eyes again, she just had enough time to get ready for work.

The day was uneventful.

Nobody bothered her, she didn't even cross paths with Edmund, as if everyone had gotten the memo that she wasn't to be messed with anymore. She did what she had to do, as soon as she had wrapped up everything she had planned to do, she walked into her husband's office, and told him she had to leave early, and walked out, just like that. She ignored the surprised expression on his face and left, she had someone to see.

It was barely after 5pm when she knocked on James' hotel room door. It seemed ages, years rather than barely six weeks, since she had last been here, that fateful night. He must have thought Christmas had come early that night, the easiest con of his life. The joke was on him now.

He opened the door, he looked dishevelled, as if he had been sleeping .

"Juliet?" he gasped, clearly surprise to find her behind the door. "What are you ..."

"Not interrupting anything, I hope," she said flatly, clearly meaning that even if she was, she didn't care. "Mind if I come in?"

"Sure, sure," he said, as she pushed past him, he closed the door again behind her.

He looked at her, concerned. He was a damn good actor, he thought. Absolutely perfect for his line of work, if she hadn't had her little 'tête à tête' with Cassidy yesterday, she would have fallen for it.

"Is everything okay?" he asked. "What did Edmund do this time?"

He assumed Edmund had done something, of course he would, "It's not Edmund."

"What is it? Is it Rachel or Julian? Did something happen to them?"

He really looked worried now. He should be in movies, he can could teach Adam Sandler a trick or two, "No, they're fine."

She stayed quiet for a couple of minute, just staring at him, giving him her best death glare. Apparently he didn't take the hint because soon he was coming up to her, more than ready to pull her into a hug. That was the straw that broke the monkey's back, there was only so much fake compassion she could put up with in such a short span of time. Clearly her ice queen façade still needed some training.

"Don't touch me," she said. "Don't you dare touch me!"

It was then that she saw it in his eyes, the penny had dropped, he had just realised something was seriously wrong, and that something had to do with him.

"How could you?" she asked barely keeping the lid on her anger.

He was lost for words, she could see it, he wasn't sure exactly what she was referring to, and didn't want to incriminate himself just in case she was talking about something else, so she spoke again, "I trusted you. You lied to me. I can't believe I was so stupid."

"Juliet, calm down. Whatever I did, I'm sorry, I'm sure we can fix this," he said, his attempt at reassuring her was sending her over the edge. How dare he? Doesn't he know when it's time to cut the bullshit?

"Fix this? Fix this?" she repeated bewildered. "Cut the crap, James."

There, he got it now. She had called him James, he would have to be a dimwit not to know what she was going on about now

"How did you ..." he started.

"How I found out is not relevant," she snapped, it wasn't time for games anymore. "The fact is I know everything. That you're a conman, that you've done time in prison, that the only reason you pretended to be so interested in me, was so you could get your hands on my money. I know everything."

"Juliet, listen," he tried to put his hand on her forearm, she just pushed him away. Didn't he get how outraged she was? Maybe he thought that he could still reason with her, coax her into thinking that all of this was some sort of sick joke someone was pulling on her. Maybe he thought that he could sweet talk his way out of this one, that she was weak enough, naïve enough, to believe him. Well he was out of luck, because she was done. Nobody was going to take advantage of her anymore.

"No, I'm not listening to anyone anymore," she cut him off. "I'm done. I'm sick of people treating me like I'm a fool."

"I know you're not going to believe a single word I say, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry, I really am. I'll leave. I'll never set foot in Miami again, you'll never have to hear about me again."

He was apologising, well that's just the cherry on top of the icing on top of the cake. When all else fails, just say you're sorry and everything will be dandy again. He couldn't be serious.

And leave? Because he honestly thought she was just going to let him hop off to his next victim, just like that?

"I don't want you to leave," she said calmly.

He looked at her confused, he was lost again, he had no idea what her next move was going to be. She was in complete control of the situation, and she liked it.

"I want you to help me take care of Edmund," she said firmly, and his totally flabbergasted facial expression told her she had reached her mark.

.

* * *

.

"You want me to kill Edmund?" he asked astonished.

She looked at him blankly, there was no emotion in her eyes, he wondered where that happy carefree woman he had spent lunch with yesterday had gone.

"Kill Edmund? I was aware that you were a lowlife con artist, I didn't know you were also a qualified hit-man," she stated.

Sawyer thought back to Franck Dukett, the man he had killed in Australia, because he had thought he was someone else, "I ain't a hit-man."

"Good, because I don't want Edmund dead," she said.

Huh? What was the matter with her? Was she schizophrenic or something? Her eerie calmness about this whole thing was seriously starting to creep him out. Any second now, he was sure of it, she was going to pull a twelve inch butcher's knife out of her bag and stab him à la _Psycho_. He could hear the music in his head.

"I want him to suffer," she said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"I don't understand, what is it exactly that you want me to do?"

"Con him out of his money and into granting me a divorce," she said. "I've had enough of being his meal ticket. Ever since I created that drug three years ago, he's been living off profit made from it. It's high time someone pulled the carpet from under his feet, and I think you're the perfect person for the job."

"Really? And how exactly should I proceed?" he asked daringly, he wasn't going to let himself be intimidated by her,, or at least let her know that he was feeling intimidated, not even six weeks ago he had felt pity for her, then that pity had transformed itself into fondness, then friendship, then something more. "It's not exactly as if I'm going to be able to seduce him, and convince him to give me cash."

"I don't know, I'm not the hustler, that's your field of expertise. Be creative," she said authoritatively. "I do have one question for you though."

At this point, he had nothing else to lose, or did he?

"Shoot."

"How much were you trying to get out of me?"

Out of all the things she could have asked? Out of all the question she could of asked and he would have loved to answer (Was it really just all a game? Did you really feel nothing towards me at all?), this was what she wanted to know?

This woman was unbelievable. Just when he thought he had her pegged, shy geek, sexy seductress, good person, ice queen, she went and pulled out something like this, totally at the opposite of what he had anticipated.

"A hundred grand," he replied.

"Very well then," she said smoothing her skirt as she walked to the door. "That's what I'll pay you if you do the job properly. I'll call you in a couple of days to see how things are getting on."

And without even the faintest nod of the head, she opened the door and let herself out.

Sawyer just stood there for a moment, his mouth hanging open slightly. He couldn't believe that what had just happened, had really happened. Just when he was about to confess to her the whole truth and nothing but the truth, she beats him to the punch.

How the hell did she find out?

And now she wanted to employ him to rid her of her husband? Well at least that gave him the opportunity of spending some more time with her, maybe he could win her over again. Probably not, but there's no harm in trying, is there?

Now he just had to come up with some ingenious way of relieving Edmund Burke of the contents of his bank account and talk him into divorcing Juliet.

Like stealing candy off of a baby?

Maybe not.

.

TBC ...

.

* * *

.

**A/N:** How's that for a chapter that practically didn't go anywhere.  
Who honestly thought that I was going to have Juliet plot Evil Ed's murder, and that I was going to make Sawyer execute it??

I almost didn't post today.

I've spent most of the day trying to figure out how this on line administrative inscription for my University thing works, finally figured it out, only to find out that they screwed my file up, and won't let me register for the last year of my degree.

So I have to go in and actually deal with another human being tomorrow to get it all sorted out, so much for the promise that online registration would only take 15 minutes.

It's a good thing for you guys, because going to Uni, means public transport, and public transport seems to inspire me for some reason.

I hope my frustration doesn't transpire through this chapter, except in the places where it was intended.

As usual, thanks to everyone for all the encouragement, I love it.


	8. The Show Must Go On

**Tip:** You know how has been acting out lately, and we've been getting error messages instead of a new chapter, well I have found that if you click the 'refresh' button while on that page, then the chapter appears, it's like magic.

It worked for me both times I tried it, so it should work for you guys all the time.

**A/N:** Hem, well, yeah, there's a French saying that goes '_Il ne faut pas confondre vitesse et précipitation_', meaning you shouldn't mistake rashness for speed. And I think I kind of did, by writing and not thoroughly thinking ahead and instead writing myself into a wall.

So that's part of the reason why this took aaages, the second being that I am practically the only one out of my group of friends who had no exam resits to take in September, and therefore I became the "_SOS, I don't understand [Admin, European, Civil, any other kind of] law, __**YOU MUST HELP ME!!!**_" hotline for over two weeks. *sigh*

Anyway, thanks everyone for all the encouragement, I don't remember if I replied to all/any of your reviews, if I didn't I'm sorry, I meant to.

Warning, this chapter was beyond awkward to write, I'm really not happy with it.

.

* * *

.

Dinner with Edmund that evening was beyond uncomfortable. She twitched nervously in her seat, played with her broccoli, unable to eat anything. From time to time, she cast a nervous glance at her husband, was he suspicious? Did he have any idea of what she was plotting behind her back?

If he was, he certainly wasn't letting it on. He just sat there, munching his food noisily, god, she hated that sound. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Eat in silence, for crying out loud, she felt like screaming, but she didn't.

Instead half-way through the meal, she feigned a headache and retreated to the bathroom, looking the door behind her.

She had been in there for well over an hour now.

What had gotten into her? She cradled her head in her hands, rash behaviour was so out of character for her, she much preferred the wait and see, to come up with an appropriate plan approach. She couldn't believe it. The words had flown out her mouth faster than she expected, easier than she expected, she might just as well have asked him to kill Edmund for her.

She had acted unreasonably, let her feelings get the best of her. It was her own fault after all, wasn't it? How could anyone ever be interested in her without having an ulterior motive? She was just too naïve and gullible, how many more heartbreaks was it going to take until she finally realised that she didn't live in gummy bear land? She looked at herself in the mirror, disgusted and angered by the reflection of a weak woman staring back at her.

How could she have let herself fall for him? It had been so easy, so incredibly easy, she had been drawn to him. He was interesting, and interested. He was unlike anything or anyone she had ever known before. When they were together, everything seemed to come so naturally, everything felt right, logic. So much so that she hadn't even bothered to question any of it. Just how foolish could one be?

She should have known better.

Not only was she ashamed of ever having allowed herself to have feelings for him, she was embarrassed, she had made a right display of herself. She had just waltzed into his hotel room and coldly asked him to commit a criminal offence for her, what was the matter with her? Had she gone insane? It's not even as if she had anything to hold against him. technically, Sawyer, James, whatever, hadn't done anything wrong, in regards of the law.

And anyway, how on earth would he ever be able to get Edmund to divorce her, and at the same time rob him of one hundred thousand dollars? It was impossible.

Why couldn't she be a stronger woman? She had an MD, she had survived through residency, she had done some pretty outstanding things in her field of research, but when it came to personal matters, she was a mess. Enough was enough. She didn't want to be seen as a weak and pathetic excuse for a human being anymore.

She turned the tap on and ran her hands through the cool water, before splashing her face with it. She needed to get a grip and fast.

.

**

.

It had been two whole weeks since she had stormed out of that hotel room, and she had yet to hear from Sawyer again.

That being said, she had left him with the words "_I'll contact you_", and, well she hadn't. To be honest, she just hadn't had the guts to check and see if he was still in Miami, with a bit of luck, he would have taken a French leave and ran off to some other state to sweet talk some other woman into giving him a large quantity of money.

If that was indeed the case, she felt relieved. She just wanted to forget everything that had happened between them. There was no point in lying to herself and denying the fact that she did miss him, the long conversations they had together, and just spending quality time with another person, but she had to face the harsh reality that it had all been a lie, and nothing was, in fact, real.

You'd think that that would make it easier to get over, but it didn't. And she felt kind of miserable.

Nevertheless, she had cooled off a great deal since her outburst, and had come to the conclusion, that whatever happened, she had to take matters into her own hands and turn her life around. No more sitting around, waiting for things to sort themselves out, she had to take action.

First thing on the list of priorities was making sure that she got out of Edmund's shadow and him out of her life, once and for all.

In fact, she had already gotten in touch with a divorce attorney, and started going over the details of what a separation, and then eventually a divorce would entail.

She would have to find a new job, but her lawyer, Valerie Thorn, who had the reputation of being some sort of 'cut throat bitch' in her line of work, had assured her that with her credentials, and her scientific accomplishments, Juliet would have no trouble at all finding a new job.

Valerie -she insisted that they should be on a first name basis, according to her it made things easier, had stated, her tone full of confidence, that they would take that bastard of a sorry excuse of a husband of hers to the cleaners. With all the evidence of adultery they had against him, her case was solid, they were going "_win this bitch_" and Edmund wouldn't know what hit him.

"It's going to be awesome," Valerie had added, with a huge satisfied smirk on her lips.

Tonight was Juliet's last night of posing as a dedicated '_hausfrau_', cooking dinner for her husband, tomorrow he was going to be served with the divorce papers she had petitioned for, tomorrow was the first day of the rest of her life.

She had told Rachel earlier that day about her plans, and she had practically jumped up and did the macarena out of joy, "Oh my gosh, Juliet, that's fabulous! I am so happy that you're finally getting that moron out of your life."

They had then agreed that until she had found a new place to live, she would stay with Rachel. Even if she did own half of the house, she would never want to live in it again, every single piece of furniture, piece of art, screamed Edmund Burke. Everything he had ever bought had to be the most expensive or the most I flashy "in your face", both when possible, object on the market. The scarlet red leather sofa had never been to Juliet's liking, and the gold coloured wallpaper in den just made her nauseous.

Edmund loved flaunting his success and his wealth in front of everybody, Juliet didn't, she would rather live her life more simply.

So this was the end. A sort of last supper.

Edmund would be home any moment now, she sighed as she poured him a Whiskey for the last time. And on cue, she heard a key in the door.

"Jules," she heard him call. "I hope you don't mind, I brought someone home for dinner."

She rolled her eyes she knew perfectly well that he didn't give a damn whether she minded or not, it was so typical of him, to show up with some impromptu dinner guest. Fantastic.

She walked to the entrance hall, Edmund was tossing his jacket on its hook, she looked up at his companion, and she almost choked on air. This could not be happening …

.

* * *

.

What the hell was he doing here? Why hadn't he ran the minute he had found out that she knew everything? He could have, it's not even as if she had anything on him, he hadn't committed any felonies, yet. Wasn't that rule number one of being a hustler? If people get suspicious, get out of there faster than a rocket on fire? And she wasn't _just_ suspicious, she knew everything.

By now he could be somewhere else, if he had any good sense he would be somewhere else. But he wasn't, and instead he was here, in this pathetic excuse for an imitation of a traditional French Bistrot. Not that he knew what a French bistrot should look like, he had never been to France, but he had read about one in a book. Obviously the owner of this place had not even read about one in a book, because Sawyer was fairly certain that French bistrots didn't sport neon lights, flipper machines and hip-hop as ambiance music.

He just hadn't been able to bring himself to pack his belongings and leave Miami. Why? He had no idea, he couldn't leave her. He knew there was no hope of anything "happening" between them anymore, and even less chance of what he wanted to happen between them. But he had stayed, she wanted her husband to pay for what his mishaps, and deep down so did he, he thought that anyone who had treated Juliet the way Edmund Burke had deserved what was coming to him.

So he was going to grant her wishes, not only because deep down he felt like he owed it to her, but also because he genuinely wanted to help her. Maybe then she would forgive him.

He wasn't sure why it felt so important to him that she forgave him, but it did.

And that's the reason why, he was going to rid her life of Edmund Burke.

That's why he was in this place '_Chez Maurice_', it was Burke's favourite hideout, he came here almost every night, at 6pm on the dot. Sawyer had been following him for the past two weeks.

He had been shocked when he had gotten his first look of Edmund Burke. He knew the man was a bit of a player, and liked chasing skirts, and so he had pictured the guy to be some sort of hot shot, good looking, brilliant, but the biggest ass of all times. He couldn't have been further from the truth, Ed was a short, scrawny, unattractive little man, with a bit of an alien look about him. His pale white skin made him look way older than his 48 years. How could Juliet have ever thought that this was the best she could do for himself?

By now Sawyer had figured out most of Edmund's habits, his daily trip to this bar was like some form or ritual.

He would always sit on the third barstool from the left and order while clearly leering at the bartender's breasts, "A double whiskey on the rocks beautiful."

He'd then sip his booze while he checked out every single female who dared enter the place. There was one thing this man was not, and that was discreet, he'd look the girls up and down hungrily, wink at them, try and usher them over. And more often than you'd expect one of them would actually wander over and sit on the stool to his right. He'd whisper things into their ear, and the girls seemed to enjoy it (what the hell could he be saying to them, Sawyer had wondered), because moments later, his hand would be on her thigh, and she wouldn't push it away. Instead, more than once, the girl would eventually take him by the hand and lead him out the door.

And each time they did, Sawyer's stomach would lurch. How dare he?

Did he not realise what he had at home waiting for him? Juliet was a fantastic woman, smart, kind, and downright gorgeous. How dare he disrespect her so obviously?! It disgusted him.

Not tonight though, this evening he wouldn't be going off with some skank, it was time to put his plan into action.

Sawyer got up from the booth where he was sitting and headed for the bar.

"A glass of your best scotch, miss, make it a double," he sighed heavily as he took the stool right next to Edmund.

The other man looked up at him, a bit perturbed by the fact that Sawyer had taken the seat normally reserved for whichever woman he managed to pull, and asked, "Trouble, my friend?"

"Ah, it's nothing, work, deal fell through, the usual, y'know," Sawyer sighed again, glad Edmund was taking the bait so easily.

"What's your line of work?"

"Investments, if you do it right there's lots of free time, big money, the perfect life, 'xcept when your partner drops out at the last minute."

"That's unfortunate," Edmund commented.

"Tell me about it, that's the fourth time this month, I've been driving around the country looking for a new business partner, and each time they bail on me at the last minute, that's what you get when you're working with amateurs. You'd think that the prospect of bringing in nearly a quarter of a million of dollars with one single investment would entice them, right? Turns out not, it scares them and sends them running for the hills," Sawyer blabbered intentionally.

"What kind of investments did you say you worked in?" he asked, and Sawyer could almost see the dollar signs dancing around in his pupils.

"All sorts, where the money is," he joked before downing his drink, and extending his hand. "Anyway, it was nice meeting you ..."

"Edmund. Edmund Burke," he said, hastily taking Sawyer's hand and shaking it. "You're leaving already?"

"Yep," he said, standing up. "I'm going for a bite to eat, and I have to head off early tomorrow morning, it's crucial that I find someone willing to invest soon, otherwise the whole opportunity will be screwed."

He started walking to the door.

"Wait," Edmund said.

Sawyer spun around on his heels.

"How long has it been since you've had a home cooked meal?"

Sawyer gave him his best puzzled look.

"My wife," he began. "She cooks a decent enough meal, and maybe you can talk me into taking part in your deal, I've got some spare money lying around and I've been looking for a smart thing to do with it. Maybe it's more than a coincidence that you sat on that stool next to me this evening, maybe we were meant to collaborate together."

"Well, who am I to refuse a real meal and a business offer?" Sawyer smiled, as Edmund scrambled off the stool, and grabbed his jacket.

Sawyer followed his lead, he had his way in and it had been almost as easy as stealing candy off of a baby.

The game was on.

.

.

TBC


	9. Come Dine With Me

**A/N:** It was brought to my attention that there was 0 Sawyer/Juliet interaction in the last chapter. My bad. I hadn't even noticed.  
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* * *

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"Oh my god!" he exclaimed. "Juliet Carlson? Is that really you?"

If she had been surprised to find Sawyer in her home, now she was shocked by the fact that he was openly acknowledging the fact that they knew each other already. What on earth could he be possibly up to? Was he here to sabotage her? Get back at her for screwing up his con?

Nevertheless she tried to keep her features unreadable, she didn't want him knowing that he set her off balance. She stared at him straight in the eyes, and he stared back, she could feel the tension build up between them, but neither of them had any intention whatsoever of giving an inch.

"You two know each other?" Edmund looked back and forth at both of them with curiosity in his eyes.

"Know each other?" Sawyer said, and Juliet could tell that Edmund's reaction was exactly what he had been looking for. What was he going to say now? Something about not knowing she was married, hence why he called her by her maiden name, and then making up a lie about them having a more than torrid and passionate one night stand. That would seriously screw up her and Valerie's plans to bring down Edmund.

"Know each other?" Sawyer repeated. "We went to the same college."

WHAT?! She forgot to breathe for a minute. What was he doing? The same college? Had he gone insane? Why was he doing this?

Her heart was beating so fast in her chest, it felt like it was going to explode.

"We weren't in any of the same classes. What a small world," he sighed as he approached her, and pulled her in for a hug. He held her slightly too close for her liking, but he smelt so good, right then and there she realised that she had missed the smell of his aftershave, she almost gave into the hug, but quickly snapped out of it. She was going to play along with his game, it was her only way out right now, but she wouldn't fall for him. She had learned her lesson, the hard way.

"Who would have thought?" she forced a smile, as she backed out of his arms. She looked over at Edmund, who was sporting his confused faced, he was in a situation where she wasn't in control, and Juliet knew he didn't like it.

"So what?" Edmund asked puzzled. "You two sat together in biology class?"

"No," Juliet replied, before Sawyer had the opportunity to speak. "When I was a freshman, James here was a senior. Besides, I was a pre-med, whereas he studied literature."

"Literature, eh?" Edmund said, unconvinced. "You don't seem the type."

"You shouldn't judge a book by its cover," Sawyer countered. "I love the books."

"I see reading as a big waste of time, time that would be better being spent on other things," Edmund commented.

"All the great men of this world read. Winston Churchill said he read one book a night, and he still managed to be a formidable leader," Sawyer remarked.

Juliet tried to stop herself from smiling, Edmund being told off was a scene she had hoped to live and see.

She cleared her throat and suggested that they head to the dining room, before dinner got cold. She disappeared into the kitchen for a moment, and came back with extra cutlery and a plate for Sawyer and set them down in front of him, before sitting down in her own seat.

"So if you two weren't in any classes together," Edmund began. "How did you meet?"

She glanced up at Sawyer, he was the one who made up lies for a living, so best leave it to the pro, she thought. Apparently he got the hint, because he launched himself into an intricate story about how exactly they had gotten to know each other.

According to him, they had met at a party, that he and his "buddies" had crashed, the party had turned out to be one of the most boring events of the semester, but somehow they had wound up talking to each other, about everything and nothing, but then she had left the party without giving him her name. He had been a bit crushed, but a couple of days after, they had bumped into each other, she was on her way into the library, and he was on his way out. From then on they had been friends.

"Just friends?" Edmund had asked suspiciously. Edmund thought that there was no such thing are purely platonic male/female relationships.

"Yeah, well," Sawyer chuckled. "I sort of had a thing for her back in the day, but she wasn't having any of it."

Edmund burst out laughing, "As if Juliet would ever appeal and actually have a shot with a guy like you. Unless you were some sort of skinny, nerdy and awkward geek back then too."

.

***

.

Sawyer shot Edmund a death stare, but the other man was gazing down at his plate, and didn't even notice.

How dare he?

He looked over at Juliet, she was trying to not look hurt by her husband's comment, but he could see that she was. She noticed that he was looking at her, and he tried to convey her some sympathy with his eyes, but she just looked the other way. He couldn't believe that Juliet actually thought that Edmund was right, and that she couldn't get a guy like him (or the guy he was pretending to be). Juliet could have any man her heart desired, and whoever that lucky guy was should thank the lord every day for his good fortune.

How could Edmund not realise how fantastic his wife was? It outraged him.

It made him want to punch Edmund, beat him to a pulp, bash his head against a wall to knock some sense into him.

It made him want to get up, right now. And throw Juliet on the table, and take her, right there and then, beside the mashed potatoes, in front of Edmund. Just to show the little sleazy bastard what he was missing out on.

The sound of a phone ringing interrupted the clinking sound of their forks against their plates. It was Edmund's cell phone, and his ring tone was 'Darth Vader's Imperial March' from Star Wars, of course it was, he is just _that _obnoxious.

Edmund fumbled for the device in his poket and took a peak at the caller display, and grinned.

He cleared his throat, "Sorry, I have to take this. Important business call."

Business, my ass, thought Sawyer, with a grin like that pasted over his face, it could only mean one thing, the person calling him was a skirt.

Edmund got up and left the room.

Sawyer turned to Juliet, "How can you let him treat you like that?"

"What? I don't know what you mean," she feigned confusion.

"Like hell, Juliet. The man treats you like dirt, he insults you to your face."

She looked at him blankly.

"Listen, Juliet, I'm sure years of this kind of mental abuse can do serious damage to a person's self esteem, but damn it, you're a great person. A fantastic person! You shouldn't be treated like a piece of crap. You deserve so much better."

For a second, she seemed rather taken aback by his outburst, but she quickly concealed her feelings again, and said, "Oh really? And someone like who?"

"Someone who would love you, and respect you, and treat you right," he replied.

"Someone like you?" she asked ironically.

He didn't say anything, and they looked into each other's eyes for a long moment. The look meant everything and nothing at the same time. It was the most intense eye contact he had ever had with another human being. The air in the room felt stuffy, he was almost having trouble breathing.

He leaned forward towards her, she leaned towards him. He wanted to kiss her. He had to kiss her. He needed to kiss her. He was going to kiss her. He leaned even further, their lips were only inches apart now, she wasn't pulling away.

"Why are you here?" she whispered, as their lips almost touched.

They jumped apart when they heard Edmund barge back in the room. Excellent timing, jerk, Sawyer said to himself. But he didn't sit down, instead he announced, "I have to go out. Work emergency. You know, potential investors going crazy. I have to fly in and save the day."

"Work emergency, at 8 pm, wow, you certainly work hard," Sawyer couldn't help himself from saying.

"Yeah, these investors are in LA, it's still business time on the West Coast, and I must go and smooth things over via video conference, before they bail on us, and we come out short on funds."

This dude was the worst liar in the history of liars. And it was almost as if he knew everyone knew he was lying, and just didn't give a rat's ass about it, what a douche bag.

"Anyway, I'm sorry, I have to bail on you," he said to Sawyer. "I've got your business card, so I'll most definitely call you to talk a bit more about that business investment thing of yours. Just finish your dinner calmly, you and Jules can reminisce about the good old days, eh?"

He turned away and headed for the door, just as he was reaching it he called back "Don't get frisky now."

And then he laughed, as if it was the most absurd and preposterous idea of all times, he laughed all the way to the front door, the unnerving cackling only ceased after they heard the front door slam behind him.

"You know, I will have sex with you right now, just to spite him, if you want to," he joked, she laughed a little, and his heart fluttered.

He wondered if they were going to take off from where they had been before Edmund had ruined the moment.

"You know what," she sighed. "I need a drink. Follow me to the living room?" she said, standing up and leading the way out of the room.

He sat on the sofa, she handed him a glass of Rhum, and took the armchair. They sat in silence for a while, she was looking out of the window. Sawyer looked around the room. Everything was disproportionately large and flashy. It all looked expensive, a whole load of bling.

"Nice diggs, you got here," he said. "I honestly didn't peg you as a big, imposing, leather couch -just to show people how big my pay check is, kind of person."

"Edmund did the decorating," she said, turning her attention.

"Figures, I picture you in more soothing and neutral tones."

She looked at him oddly, "You didn't answer my question."

"What question was that?" Sweetheart, he had almost added, but he decided it wasn't the time to be a full blown smart ass.

"Why are you here?"

Of course, he had known that this was the question she was referring to, why was he here? Because he couldn't go another day, another hour, another minute without seeing her, if he told her that, in the best case scenario she would laugh in his face, and in the worse she would call it bull shit. Even though it wasn't, but she would never believe that.

"You hired me to do a job, I'm just here to execute it."

"Why didn't you run off? If you had any good sense, you'd have taken your opportunity to flee," she commented.

I don't have any good sense when you are involved, he sighed, "I owed you."

"As if that even mattered, I have nothing on you, you haven't committed any felonies, yet. You could have walked."

He stayed quiet, she kept talking, "Well … I'm officially letting you off the hook. You can go free. Leave Miami. You don't owe me anything, in fact, at the end of the day, you sort of did me a favour."

"What do you mean 'I did you a favour'?"

"This whole thing that happened with you pushed me to finally pull myself together and get out of this destructive dead end marriage I was trapped in," she revealed. "Edmund will be served divorce papers in the morning."

He smiled at her genuinely, "Juliet, I am so happy for you. I meant what I said earlier, you deserve much better than a guy like Edmund Burke. Hell, you deserve the best that life's got to offer."

He was not only pleased for her, he was actually proud of her, she was going to rid herself of that moron, and start fresh.

"For what it's worth," he began. "I truly and honestly am sorry about what I did to you. I never wanted to hurt you."

She looked at him with doubt in her eyes.

"Sure, when I came to Miami, my only intention was to con you out of all that money, in a typical 'wham, bam, thank you m'am' fashion. But then I got to know you, and I didn't want to hurt you. I know you'll never believe me, but, you know the day you came over to my hotel room and told me you knew everything, well I was going to come clean with you that day. I really was. I guess you beat me to the punch."

He chuckled half heartedly, staring at his shoelaces as if they were the most fascinating thing in the world, in order to avoid her gaze, he could feel her eyes on him. It was as if she could see right through him. He wished she really could, that way she would know he wasn't lying, not this time.

"I believe you," she said calmly, maybe she really could read his soul. He looked up at her, and she added, "It's okay now. As I said before, you're free to go."

They settled into an awkward silence, the tension in the air between them was building up again. Do you want me to go? He wanted to ask, but he was afraid to. He was scared of the answer. Scared that her answer would be 'no'. "If I go through with conning Edmund anyway, will you call the cops on me?"

"Why would you do that?" she questioned, sitting on the edge of her seat. They were as close as it was physically possible while staying seated.

"Because he deserves some form of punishment for hurting you," he said.

"And who's going to punish you?" she asked.

The fact that I'm never going to have you and make you mine is the worst punishment ever for me, he thought, but he didn't say it out loud.

But maybe he did say it out loud, because the next thing she said was, "I won't call the cops on you."

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_TBC …_

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_.  
_

**A/N: **There's your Sawyer/Juliet interaction. Albeit a bit on the cheesy/RomCom side, but nevertheless, it is there.

This chapter was definitely more fun to write than the last.

Thanks to everyone who takes the time to review, they make me happy, and urge me on :)

Oh, and I'm desperately trying to come up with an excuse to get out of a night on the town, I'd promised I'd go to, but I'd rather not (there's loads of people I can't stand going), so if you have any suggestions, please help me out.


	10. Down with the King

**A/N: **I am so sorry for the delay. I was going to post an update last week, but I was/still am dreadfully sick, and really and almost wound up in hospital.

No need to freak out and back away from your screens though, my ailment wasn't/isn't a contagious one.

But the people who got worried and wondered where I had disappeared to are so sweet :)

I also have loads of story updates to read, I think I have about a zillion of **KaydenceRei**'s '_**All Over Again**_' to read, and _*jumps up and down excitedly*_ a brand new chapter of '_**Déjà Vu All over Again**_' by **makealist** to read, and I was skimming through the first couple of pages on and noticed that **makealist** also updated 'T_**he Mysterious Mrs LaFleur**_' (the site didn't send me an alert for that, so I'm pissed at them), and updates of awesome stories make me happy.

But before I get to the bit I really like, and put up my feet and swift through awesomely written paragraphs, I feel obligated to update my own.

This chapter is absolutely not what I had originally planned for this chapter, if that makes any sense. I had mapped out, and drafted the chapter, was about to type it up, then I had a brain wave, and just had to write this one, for the heck of it.

This one is just for my personal enjoyment, you'll probably hate it, but it's short, it's 100% different from everything I have done up until now.

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* * *

_*  
My baby don't mess around  
Because she loves me so  
And this I know for shooo'  
*_

Edmund Burke sang along to the music playing from his car radio as he drove to work that morning. His head bobbed up and down, left to right, and his arms jerked slightly from time to time, desperately attempting but hopelessly failing at staying in rhythm.

_*  
But does she really wanna  
But can't stand to see me  
Walk out the dooor..  
Don't try to fight the feelin'  
Because the thought alone is killing me right nooww..  
Uh, thank god for mom and dad  
For sticking two together  
'Cause we don't know hooowww...  
UH!_

_Heeeyyy... Yaaaaaaa..  
*_

It was a little routine of his.

Every day, he would sit himself comfortably behind the steering wheel of his top notch, brand new and shiny BMW Z4, he would turn on the radio, crank up the volume so that he could sing and 'dance along' to the hottest tunes of the moment.

Okay, so The Outkast was _so last summer_, but they were still playing it on WFLZ-FM, and that was a hip station, so the song was still hip, and Edmund Burke was hip.

His favourite bit of the song was coming up ...

_*  
Alright, alright, Ok now ladies, (YEAH!)  
And we gon' break this thing down in just a few seconds  
Now don't have me break this thang down for nothin'  
Now I wanna see y'all on y'all baddest behavior  
Lend me some suga', I am your neighbor ahh here we go!  
Shake it, shake, shake it, shake it (OHH OH)  
Shake it, shake it, shake, shake it, shake it, shake it (OHH OH)  
Shake it, shake it like a Polaroid Picture, shake it, shake it  
*_

And he shook his hand, he shook it as if he was trying to make it fall off. He was really getting into it at the traffic light and the young beach babes in the car next to him were starting to stare.

Like what you see, ladies, he thought as he nodded conceitedly in their direction. They so wanted a piece of him, his ego swelled with pride.

The light turned green, and he zoomed off. Flirting in the morning, best pick me up in the world. Not that Edmund needed a pick me up, he felt good today. Actually, he felt good every day, his life was golden.

If only his high school classmates could see him now. The joke would be on them. As an awkward and pimply teenage boy, Edmund Burke had known nothing but rejection. He couldn't be part of any sport team, because he was too scrawny and non-athletic. He couldn't be on the debate team, because his comeback was too long in coming. He couldn't be a mathlete, because he sucked at maths. Even the Star Trek geeks had rejected him, because he wasn't a big enough fan of the show for their liking. Bastards, all of them.

Nowadays nothing resisted the Ed'ster! Contracts, chicks, golf handicap, you name it, nothing remained indifferent to Edmund, everyone wanted a piece of him.

He had wanted to show off his prosperity to all those jocks and cheerleaders, who had turned him down and laughed in his face when he was a kid. So he drove to his high school reunion in an expensive car, wore a Rolex watch, and bought Juliet an expensive, but slutty blood red dress to wear. She hadn't wore the dress, unsurprisingly, but at least she had had the good taste to not cling to him while he paraded around the room like he was god's gift to mankind. Some people were deeply impressed by him and his success, others were lethally jealous, and Edmund was deliriously ecstatic.

Stacy Arlington, the cheerleader who had found out in high school that he had a crush on her and who had tormented him relentlessly about it and who had, since then, become the fat stay at home mother to two rat faced kids, had commented on how fantastic and lovely his wife was.

Fantastic and lovely? He wasn't sure about that, but Juliet was ideal, he could walk all over her, and it was thanks to her and her brilliant mind that he was as rich as he was. Every time he checked his savings account he thanked God for not having given her those divorce papers as he had originally intended to. Man, he would be kicking himself so hard now if he had.

But Juliet was boring and dull, and liked to read.

Good thing she didn't say anything about his mistresses, he needed a little bit of fun and games in his life, and the girls just keep falling into his arms. His charm was so irresistible, all he had to do was lean over and whisper in their ears something that gave them an idea as to how much money he had in the bank, or just how powerful a business man he was, and they would hop in bed, faster than he could say 'Millions'.

His life was perfect.

Okay, not storybook perfect. If his life was that kind of perfect, he would wake up one morning and realise he had miraculously grown an extra foot in height and doubled his muscle mass over night. But who knows, maybe someday some whiz kid would come up with a drug combo that would do just that. And then his life would be just dandy.

As he pulled into the parking lot, he remembered that he had something else to look forward to, the investment he was going to make through that James dude, who apparently knew Juliet back in college. And who apparently had some sort of crush on her or something. The thought alone made him burst out laughing. It was ridiculous. How was it even remotely possible that a guy like that could ever find someone like Juliet even slightly attractive. It was downright impossible.

Edmund had met Juliet when she was still in Med School, back when he was still nothing more than one of the many junior executives of a pharmaceutical company, head hunting for the next Louis Pasteur.

And if "_Med School Juliet_" was anything like "_College Juliet_", he just couldn't understand what James could have possibly seen in her. The girl had a great brain, a natural talent in all matters relating to fertility, and a keen interest in research, but she was withdrawn, awkward, socially retarder with absolutely zero fashion sense. He had actually been more than pleasantly surprised the first time he saw her naked. Who would have thought that she had a body like that hidden under those frumpy silhouette disfiguring clothes and her granny cardigans?

But maybe that's the kind of girl that James liked? To each their own fetishes, Edmund liked being dominated, he was in no place to judge.

The only thing Edmund was one hundred percent certain of was that there's was nothing he liked more than money, except easy money. And nothing he like more than easy money, except fast earned easy money, and that's exactly what James was offering him.

He felt victorious. Life was awesome! He was awesome! Hee, hee!

Edmund parked in his designated spot and slid out of his car.

He walked towards the entrance of the building, with a spring in his step, happy as a clam.

"Edmund Burke?" A young woman asked as she stepped out in front of him.

He looked her up and down, and he liked what he saw. Her long poker straight auburn hair was hanging loosely on her shoulders, she had a pretty face with shiny hazel eyes and her tight ivory trouser suit hugged and clung to her every curve -in the best of all possible ways. He almost gasped. She was gorgeous and barely a day over 25 according to his expert eyes.

What could she possibly want? She knew his name, maybe she wanted a job. Well then, if she was as good between the sheets as she looked, perhaps he might just find her a research or a lab assistant's position. This day was most definitely getting off to a great start.

"Yes, beautiful," he sweet talked. "I'm Edmund Burke, what can I do for you?"

She simultaneously rolled her eyes and shoved a craft envelope in his hands as she said, "You've been served."

Before smirking, turning on her heels and walking away.

Huh? Edmund Burke looked confused as he watched her disappear in the crowd. He returned his attention to the craft envelope in his hands. He opened it up, and pulled out its contents.

'PETITION OF DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE'

"What the fuck?!" he said furiously.

.

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TBC ...

* * *

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**A/N: **Yeah, I know no Sawyer and no Juliet, that's bound to make me unpopular, you'll be chasing after me like angry furies, won't you?

Oh and by the way, you know how I said I wanted to finish both my stories before I started back at Uni?

Well I started back at Uni on Monday, it doesn't surprise me that I didn't keep that promise ...  
Feel free to bug me, if you reckon I'm taking too long to update, sometimes a nudge is all I need to get my act into gear.

And as always, thanks so much to everyone who is reading this attempt at a semi constructed story, especially to those who review :)


	11. The End and the Beginning

**A/N:** I have no excuse. I wasn't abducted by aliens.

There is just not enough hours in the day for me to do everything I want to do :(

Thank you to everyone for you warm response to the last chapter, I loved that the general reaction was "Haha! You are an insane crazy person!!", that's exactly what I was aiming at.

This chapter is a bit odd, in the sense that it starts before the "Edmund chapter", but ends after it, you guys are smart though, it probably won't even set you off balance.  
I didn't edit/reread this as much as I would have liked to, but I'm so tired, that proof reading would have pushed posting this back to tomorrow, so if there are any gross/embarrassing mistakes and typos, forgive me, but point them out to me so I can fix them. TY

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* * *

.

They were standing at her doorway. She was inside and he was outside.

"Thanks," he said.

"It was just mashed potatoes and chicken, not very worthy of a Michelin star," she laughed softly.

"You know what I mean."

They had agreed that she would keep up his cover in front of Edmund, or rather she wouldn't deny having known him from college. Sawyer didn't want her to lie for him, he didn't want her to risk jail time for the likes of him. As odd as it may seem, this, a man wanting to con another man to defend her honour, was most probably the nicest thing a guy had ever done for her. It's not as if it there was much competition in that category anyway, the runner up was the time her chemistry lab partner, Patrick, had warned her that a strand of her hair was dripping into a beaker filled with hydrochloric acid. So she was touched by Sawyer's plan, even if it was a felony, for crying out loud, the man was ready to be sent behind bars to get even with her soon-to-be ex-husband. How many guys were willing to do something like that?

She smiled at him, she had really enjoyed spending an evening in his company. Edmund's sudden, but not totally unexpected last minute meeting, had allowed them to have a more than enjoyable little tête à tête. She had almost forgotten how easy it was to talk to him, except not really, she had tried and tried to convince herself that the ease she felt with him was just part of the con, but that hadn't stopped her missing it dreadfully over the course of the last couple of weeks.

And then, when he had looked at her straight in the eyes and swore that he had never wanted to hurt her, she believed him. Her mind was going crazy, sending her warning signs, trying to tell her that she should not trust him, if she did she was a fool, but deep down in her heart, she knew he was telling her the truth, she just did.

"Good night, Juliet," he said in an almost whisper.

"Good bye, James," she sighed, trying her best to hide the anguish she was feeling.

He slowly started to walk away, she wanted to tell him to stop, but she didn't. He reached the bottom of the driveway and turned around. She was still there, half hanging out the door, she wanted to call out to him, but that would be pathetic. And anyway, what would she say?

Apparently she didn't need to say anything, her state of 'desperation' spoke for itself, because he stormed back up the driveway and said, "If this is the last time we ever see each other, I can't leave it at this."

He kissed her. Forcefully at first, and for a second she wasn't sure what she should do, then she gave in and kissed him back.

She could think of more than 1,000 reasons why she shouldn't be doing what she was doing, why she should push him away, and lock the door behind him. First of all, she was married, albeit not for long anymore, but if Edmund caught wind of this, it could potentially screw up the divorce plans Valerie had neatly set out for her. Secondly, she should know better, how does the saying go? "You burn me once, shame on you; you burn me twice, shame on me. Is that it?"

She had gotten hurt the last time around, she should be running for the hills right now, not pressing her body closer to his, but she couldn't help it. It was like a moth to a flame, she was the moth, he was the flame. She wanted him, more than she had ever wanted a man before. It had been like that ever since they had first met, and even more so when she had got to know him, or thought she had got to know him. She had felt this attraction that she had never experienced before, it was intoxicating and exhilarating, she couldn't get enough of the feeling.

The more they kissed, they less she wanted to pull away, or rather the more her inability to actually pull away increased. So instead of pulling away, she pulled him back inside and closed the front door, as she pushed his back up against it. They hadn't broke apart yet, she was almost afraid to.

His warm hand were up the back of her shirt, burning her skin, it felt so right, yet it was so wrong.

"James," she gasped, finally taking half a step back.

"Mmmmh?" he asked.

"Did you honestly mean what you said about not wanting to hurt me? About never wanting to hurt me?" she needed some sort of reassurance, she needed to be sure that she wasn't just making all this up in her head, that it wasn't some kind of twisted fantasy that she was using as a coping mechanism to deal with her marriage problems, her imminent divorce, he shambles of a life.

"Dead, serious," he said, in the most blatantly honest tone ever. She couldn't do anything but believe him.

She hesitated for a slight moment, before doing something she had swore she would never ever do again, something she had written off as not being in her nature, she took a leap of faith and hoped for the best.

.

* * *

.

Juliet woke up the next morning feeling bright and cheery. The heavy sensation that had been plaguing her heart the past couple of weeks was gone, she felt relieved, it was the first day of her new life.

Edmund hadn't come home the previous evening, which was just as well, her attorney had told her to try and act as normally as possible so that Edmund didn't suspect anything fishy was about to happen, but truth be told, lying was becoming more and more difficult. She was glad he spent the night elsewhere.

Today was a big day, she had to hand in her letter of resignation (and her two weeks notice) to Edmund, but that was only this afternoon, she had taken the morning off to deal with everything else she had to do, such as her job interview with the dean of medicine at Miami General Hospital.

It had surprised her how little she had had to pack. If you didn't know better, you wouldn't even have noticed that she had moved out, the only things she was taking were a couple of books, some family photos of her, Rachel, Julian and her parents, a few CDs, and her clothing. Edmund had been adamant about picking out all the furniture, wallpaper, dust collectors himself -he knew best, or so he said, so much so that she had never really felt at home in this house. Perhaps that's why it was so easy for her to pack up her belongings and walk out the door. No regrets.

As she put the last bag in the boot of her car, and sat behind the wheel, she sighed heavily. There was no turning back now.

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* * *

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Juliet entered Valerie Parker's office.

The lawyer was sitting behind her prestigious mahogany desk. There wasn't a single symbol of her personal life in the room -no family photographs, no trophies, no nothing. It was almost as if the woman had no life outside her job, although seeing how good she was, it wouldn't be surprising.

Juliet sat down in the seat across from Valerie, who picked up her phone and mumbled, "Tell Samantha to come in."

"Juliet," Valerie flashed her a large smile.

There was a knock on the door and a young woman entered into the office.

"Samantha, this is Juliet," Valerie introduced. "Juliet, Samantha is one of my most promising legal assistants, aspiring to someday become a big shot attorney, she is the one who delivered the divorce papers to Edmund not even half an hour ago."

"Oh my … And, well, how did it go?" Juliet couldn't help but ask.

"As it was to be expected," Samantha explained. "The sleaze bag tried to chat me up, but when he saw what I was actually there for, he was totally stunned, then pissed."

"Oh," Juliet barely managed. Of course he would be angry. He was Edmund. He had a lousy poker face, he wasn't good at concealing his feelings whatsoever. She was starting to feel anxious about facing him later on.

"See, Juliet, everything is going as planned. It's going to be just fine," Valerie said, catching on to Juliet's nervousness.

Juliet looked up at the older woman, "You think so?"

"I know so. My dear, I am one of the best divorce lawyers in Miami. I have the reputation of being a right cut throat bitch. I, myself, have been successfully divorced three times. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about, this bastard is going to bite the dust."

.

* * *

.

She couldn't believe she was feeling jittery.

This was her first job interview in what seemed like forever. Straight out of medical school she had been recruited by the Pharmaceutical company Edmund worked for, and well she had stayed there, until Ed had decided to leave, after he found a better money making opportunity elsewhere, dragging her in toe with him.

She had been reluctant to leave that first job, she liked it there. The people were nice, she felt comfortable. But what could she have done? Edmund asked her, well told her, to come with him, what was she supposed to do? Say no? He was her husband, they had been barely married for a year, and she didn't want to stir up unnecessary trouble.

By the time the dean's secretary finally lead her into his office, she had chewed down all the nails of her right hand down to the skin, and was halfway done with her left hand.

The dean, Dr Malcolm Hendricks was somewhere in his late fifties, he had a a full head of fluffy snowy white hair, and a cheery smile on his face.

"Dr Burke, what a pleasure to meet you," he said enthusiastically, shaking her hand over his desk, he gestured her to take a seat.

They went through the usual trivialities that precede these kind of interviews, before he finally said, "Dr Burke, as much as it's an honour for an establishment like ours to receive a resume such as yours, I can't help but wonder why a researcher of your calibre would be going out on the hunt for a new job. Usually, it's the other way around, and it's the pharmaceutical companies who try to poach the star workers from other companies."

"You see, Dr Hendricks, in all honesty, I'm more than ready for a change of pace and space. I have worked in the same lab far too long, it's time for me to seek out other horizons," Juliet replied.

"You are aware that if you work here, you won't be able to focus on your research one hundred percent of the time, you'll also have a certain amount of patient care and interaction in your schedule?" he enquired.

"Of course," Juliet said. "In fact, I'm really looking forward to handling patients, when you're stuck around test tubes all day long, you lose touch with reality. I became a doctor to help people, not only by trying to create drugs that will, hopefully, make their lives better, but also by actually helping them as a doctor."

They chatted some more, but Dr Hendricks appeared to be rather impressed by what she was saying, by the end of the interview, Juliet felt confident. And if she hadn't what the Dean said to her as she left the office would have been the best indicator of how the meeting had went, "I will be contacting you very soon, our hospital needs a new fertility specialist, and I'm sure you'll just fit in really well here."

.

* * *

.

Then came the moment she had dreaded all day long.

She had to hand in her resignation letter to Edmund, saying she was a little apprehensive about how the whole ordeal would go was a vast understatement.

She was really not looking forward to it.

She lingered in front of his office door almost ten full minutes before mustering up enough courage to knock.

"Come in," a gruff voice called from the other side of the door.

Well here goes nothing, she thought to herself.

When he realised it was her entering the room, he narrowed down, his already tiny beady eyes, into slits. He was not happy, and he was about to show her just how pissed off at her he was.

"You are one sneaky, conniving little bitch, aren't you?" he asked rhetorically.

"Ed … " she began.

"What's the matter now? Changed your mind? Come in here to grovel? Have you finally realised that without me you are nothing? Have you come to beg for my forgiveness?"

"Actually," she said. His mean sarcasm had given her a new strength. "I just came in to give you this."

She handed him the letter.

"What the hell?" he exclaimed upon discovering what the letter was about. "Are you insane? Do you think you'll ever find a job that offers you the technology and the resources we give you here?"

"Edmund," she sighed. "I honestly don't care. I've had enough. I'm done. I just want out. It's my two weeks notice, I'll have cleared out my belongings by then."

She then turned towards the door. It was over. Finally.

"Do you honestly think it would be that easy to get rid of me, Jules?" Edmund asked, with a hint of evil in his tone. "How do you feel about me going to the police and reporting your more than questionable research ethics?"

Juliet couldn't believe what she was hearing. He was serving her the exact same blackmail he had served her almost four years ago, unbelievable. "You'd just be doing yourself more harm than you would be doing to me," she commented. "You backed me up, made damn sure your name was the one written in big print all over the drug. You're just as liable as I am, if not more. So turn me in if it makes you feel happy, most likely I'll get a slap on the wrist, but you, as the company's CEO, you would get torn and shredded into billions of tiny little pieces."

And with that she left the room, closing the door firmly on her way out. She had never felt this satisfied in her entire life.

.

.

_TBC …_

_._

_.  
_


	12. Hope

Some people kept going on about how I had left a bit out of the last chapter, go figure ...  
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* * *

  
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Who would have thought that his life would be turned upside down in so little time? Certainly not him.

His evening had turned out to be more than nice.

Initially, his goal had been to just set up his con-to-be by gaining Edmund Burke's trust. Then, out of the blue, the man had invited him to dinner with his wife, and not only had he found himself a way into Edmund's "circle of trust", he was also going to get to spend some time with Juliet, albeit with Edmund breathing down her neck, but still.

Then he had nearly leaped of joy when insufferable Edmund had unexpectedly excused himself and headed out of the door to go to a nocturnal "meeting". From the look on Juliet's face, Sawyer could see that she wasn't really surprised by his sudden departure, apparently leaving his wife stranded halfway through dinner was another one of Ed's habits.

For a second, he had wondered, now that her husband had gone, and that she had no cover to maintain, whether she was going to march him out of her house the minute Edmund's car drove off, but she didn't. Instead, she took him into the living room and poured him a drink.

She told him she was getting a divorce and he was happy of her. Happy and sort of proud that she was finally getting away from him.

They had chatted some more, and before he knew it, it was late, and it was time to leave. As she escorted him back to the door, he couldn't help but think at how odd it was, that he felt more at home within a 10 feet radius of Juliet, a woman he had only known for a couple of months, than he had in the past thirty years.

He had reluctantly whispered goodbye and had set off down the driveway with a heavy heart. Was this really it? The last time they would ever see each other? How was he going to survive? The thought alone was unbearable, he reached the pavement and turned round to look at her, one last time, to engrave her image in his mind forever. She was still there, almost hanging out of the door, looking slightly helpless.

He couldn't stop himself, he was back up that driveway twice as fast as he had come down it. If this was his last chance, he was going to make the most of it, he was going to kiss her -à la rom-com. After all, he had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

For a minute she was stunned, he worried that she was about to bat him off and tell him to get the hell out of her life, but she eventually responded, matching his own enthusiasm.

She somehow managed to reverse who was in control, and she pushed him up against the recently closed front door. He didn't know how long he was going to be able to keep cool before he just ripped all her clothes off of her.

He was already starting to undress her, fumbling with her bra clasp, when she stopped him and took a step back and gasped, "James."

"Mmmmh?" he mumbled, slightly confused by the change of pace.

"Did you honestly mean what you said about not wanting to hurt me? About never wanting to hurt me?" she asked.

"Dead, serious," he replied instantly. What did she want? Why was she asking him this? Was she having second thoughts? Of course she was, he was a conman, who had tried to con her once before, obviously she would be having second thoughts, the question was, what about? What was this to her? Just a one night stand kind of thing? Or did she think that there was potential for more?

She hesitated for a moment or two before speaking again. The air in the room was heavy, he could feel his heart shrinking, his breath was caught in his throat.

"James," she whispered. His mind was going to implode with anticipation.

"... James," she repeated, with a hint of uncertainty in her tone. "I don't want you to con Edmund." Huh? What? Why? Did she not despise the evil creepy slime ball anymore? Had she changed her mind? What was happening? He didn't understand.

Apparently, he had left his poker face at home and his confusion over the matter was clearly displayed on his face, because she didn't wait for an eternity before adding, "I don't want you to end up in prison."

He was slightly taken aback by her confession, "Darling, I'm a pro. I have no intention of getting caught."

"Yeah, but what if ..."

"Then, I guess, I would to prison, no biggie, I've been there before," he interrupted her.

"But why would you do that? Risk jail time for me? It doesn't make sense, we barely know each other."

"Actually, as pathetic as it may seem, you are probably the person who knows me best in the whole world right now. So this might actually be the most thought out decision I have made in my entire life." She was about to protest but he didn't stop talking. "Listen, I feel lower than earth for hurting you. I didn't want that to happen. I screwed up, and I'm really sorry about that. If I could do it all over again, I wouldn't do things the same way. And your soon-to-be ex-husband is a total dickhead anyway, who doesn't know just how lucky he was to have a woman like you in his life, so it's high time someone gave that son of a bitch a lesson, and that someone just happens to be me."

He was very proud of his little speech, he was sure that it would convince her that he was right, because he was, wasn't he? She remained silent for a moment, she appeared to be weighing the pros and cons in her head.

"Regardless," she sighed. "I don't want you to go through with it."

"Why not?" he could help but ask her. What the hell did it matter to her if he ended up locked up in a cell or not? "It'd be like killing two birds with a single stone. First the ass hole, who has been making your life a living hell for the past couple of years, gets what he had coming to him for quite some time now. And second, the jerk, who tried to con you, gets thrown behind bars. It's a win/win situation!"

He didn't understand how she couldn't get the logic of his reasoning.

"It's not a win/win, if I don't want you to go to jail, James ..." she trailed off.

He looked into her eyes, it was there, it was back, that twinkle of mutual attraction that had gone dull after she had found out who he really was.

"I mean," she said, looking away as her cheeks became flushed. "Who would I talk to about the latest horror novel I have read? Who would go with me to see the newest slasher film being shown in the cinemas? I mean, my sister's great and everything, but she doesn't share my fondness for goosebumps, blood and guts."

She was so flustered that she had almost been rendered to babbling. It was the most adorable thing he had ever seen.

He couldn't resist the urge to lean in and kiss her, but she stopped him.

"I was thinking that we could start over?" she suggested, he wasn't quite sure what a star over entailed. "Start off from scratch? I'm not saying that nothing will ever happen between us, but I think, if something was to happen between us, it's best if we do it this way. And it's just that right now isn't really the most ideal timing ever, if I want to get all I can grab out of this divorce, I need more than a squeaky clean record. Edmund's going to be looking for things to burn my credibility down with, and I think, frolicking with an 'old college buddy' would be like serving him a defence on a silver platter."

He nodded, it made sense, she continued, "So let's start off by being friends again? What do you think about that? Let's pretend we push a reset button and start over from the beginning, eh?"

He did not hesitate for a single minute before extending his right hand, "Hi, I'm James Ford, it's a pleasure to meet you."

.

* * *

.

He hadn't seen her in almost a month, they had spoken semi-regularly on the phone, but she had been really busy. Apparently, her divorce was going very well, or, at least, as well as such matters can go, in fact, surprisingly enough, Edmund had opted to settle out of court. According to Juliet, this was entirely due to her attorney, Valerie Parker, who was, or so it appeared, quite the shark, she had managed to convince Edmund's lawyer that going to court would probably just make his situation even worse and cost him even more money, and that, at the end of the day, Juliet wasn't really asking for that much.

She was also settling quite nicely at her new job at the hospital. She had started just two weeks ago and she was thoroughly enjoying herself. It felt good to be out of the lab, and to have actual real human contact with patients, and her colleagues were nice and friendly people. It was a good change.

She was also looking for a new place to live. She told him that she loved her sister, but living together again reminded her of being a teenager and begging to get to use the bathroom for five minutes to get a quick shower in the morning, while Rachel hogged the mirror for hours making sure she looked good.

As for him, well he had started to pull his life together.

He had almost landed a security job, but then they had found out that he had a criminal record and that possibility went up in flames. Just as he had convinced himself that the only job he would get would be cleaning out the bins in a MacDonald's, he got a call from his friend Joey, who owed him big time since the Tampa job.

After the Tampa job, Joey had gotten clean, got himself a minimum wage job and taken night classes, and now he was a manager in a sales company, and all this thanks to Sawyer who had taken the fall for both of them.

Joey vouched for him and got him an entry position, which didn't consist of anything more than pushing papers around, but along with the job the company was financing night classes. And even if he couldn't picture himself sitting behind a desk, _ad vitam eternam_, it was a stepping stone, a first step towards something better.

He had also been dodging calls from Hibbs, who had been leaving him, pretty nasty voice mails, telling him that he better be bringing him that hundred grand, or lying somewhere in a ditch, or he would be, or something to that effect anyway. Whatever. He knew that Hibbs had far bigger fish to fry than his sorry ass, and that sooner or later he'd forget about him all together, hence why he had adopted the 'Ostrich technique', if you ignore your problems, they will go away sooner or later.

So far, so good, he hadn't received any angry messages in over three days now. Progress is progress.

He got to the restaurant where they were supposed to meet for lunch early, he wanted to get there before her, to prepare himself for her arrival. Turned out that she was already there. How typical of her that she would be the only woman in the world to always be early for appointments.

The minute he set his eyes on her, he could perceive a change. Her curly hair was no longer tied back to domesticate its unruliness, instead it had been straightened out, and was hanging loosely down past her shoulders. Her clothes were casual but, nevertheless classy. She almost looked like a new woman, or rather the woman Sawyer knew was inside of her all along. She was magnificent.

"Hey," she waved him over the minute she spotted him.

"Hey, back at you," he replied, before adding. "You're looking pretty damn fine, if I dare say so myself, Blondie."

"Why thank you. You don't look half bad yourself," she blushed slightly.

"So what's with the new hair, the new threads, and everything?" he asked.

"It was time for a change," she smiled.

He smiled back, it felt good to be back in her company again, he had really missed her over the course of the last couple of weeks. It was incredible how quickly her presence had become a fixture in his life. He had always prided himself on being a loner, someone who didn't have to or need to rely on other in his every day life, but now he couldn't even imagine a future which didn't have Juliet, in some capacity, in it.

"So, you'll never guess who I got a call from the other day," he said.

She looked at him with great curiosity.

"Your ex," he nodded, with amusement in his eyes. "Apparently he needs a quick way to make an easy buck, since, and I quote, his 'harpy of a wife was divorcing him and taking everything he had worked for away from him', and I should understand him and help him, in the name of the 'bros over hoes' doctrine, since, it so happens that she had also played me back in the day."

"Oh really?" she asked, trying to stay serious. "And what did you say to that?"

"I told him that it wouldn't be the best idea of the century. I mean, objectively speaking, if I enter into business with him, and the deal goes South, and he ends up losing everything, since I was old buddies with his ex, he would most probably imagine that he was the victim of some twisted and elaborated Machiavellian plan that you had set up, and in which you had used me as an instrument just to screw with him."

"Wise move, my friend," she chuckled lightly. "And then what happened."

"Then he hung up, but not before he had taken the time to remind me of how much of a useless piece of crap I am."

"Typical Edmund," she sighed.

"Typical Edmund."

The waiter came along and took their order, once he left, she asked him, "What are your plans for this weekend?"

"Nothing yet," he shrugged.

"Want to see a movie? I've been dying to see _Hide and Seek_, but Rach won't go with me, but she says creepy kids creep her out."

Stuck in a dark room, with popcorn and Juliet for company? That sounded almost heavenly to him, and the movie seemed to be half decent, there was no point in lying to himself though, he would have gladly accepted to go and see some dumb flick like the _Wedding Planner_ if that meant spending "alone time" with Juliet.

Things were going slowly but steadily between them. Neither of them was rushing, they were taking things easy, step by step. He wanted to let her come to him in her own time, he didn't want to scare her off.

He wasn't exactly sure of where they were going together, but he was going to sit back and enjoy the ride. He had been given the opportunity to have a fresh start in his life, and he was going to make the most of it, hopefully with Juliet by his side.

.

* *

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**THE END.**

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* * *

**A/N: **Now I'm off to tell my profs that I'm going to give up my law studies to write sappy chick flicks starring Patrick Dempsey, (this story is so cheesy, it's making me queasy, and I'm half French, I like cheese).

So yeah, "the end", I originally had another twist (which would generate buckets of drama), but I sort of think it's wiser to leave it at this, a nice and hopeful open ending (and 12 is an even number, because such things matter to me). That being said, I might change my mind tomorrow, after or in a month, but this is what feels right to me at this moment in time.  
If I was to analyse this story objectively, I would divide it into four parts and say Part 1 and 3 were decent enough, and Part 2 and 4 a bit lousy

I would just like to thank everyone who stuck with this story from the beginning, or who joined along the road. You guys were so patient, and handled my schizophrenic updating habits very well. You were all so encouraging, even when I was doubting myself, so thank you.

Oh and hey, my first 'complete' multi-chaptered story ever! Score! Yay! I have broke my curse (now just to finish my other _LOST _one, aha).


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